


A fever you can't sweat out

by moonsbbin



Series: La Rouge [1]
Category: The Boyz (Korea Band)
Genre: A Fever You Can't Sweat Out (Album), Alcohol, Alternate Universe - 19th Century, Alternate Universe - Victorian, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Assassination, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Brothels, Burlesque, Cabarets, Crossdressing, Explicit Sexual Content, Falling In Love, M/M, Non-Binary Kevin Moon, Permanent Injury, Prostitution, Running Away, Scars, Smoking, Strangers to Lovers, kind of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-15 05:06:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28932993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonsbbin/pseuds/moonsbbin
Summary: Life has taught Chanhee not to believe in love. He has never had a family. He has never had a home.Hyungseo offers him and Haknyeon what they have always wanted. Shelter, protection, a maternal figure and food to nourish their stomachs every day. Still, Chanhee feels like it’s not enough. He feels empty inside his heart and inside his soul, and he thinks that nobody can change that.That’s until he meets Younghoon: the man that will change his world.
Relationships: Bae Joonyoung | Jacob/Moon Hyungseo | Kevin, Choi Chanhee | New/Kim Younghoon, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Series: La Rouge [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2139918
Comments: 31
Kudos: 84





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

  * For [swagshimmie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/swagshimmie/gifts).



> Welcome to the first chapter of this fic! I hope you enjoy this whole work as much as I'm enjoying bringing it to life. Please, mind the tags before reading. Also I'm really sorry for any history inaccuracies. I tried my best for the research but maybe some things slipped! Tell me if that's the case so that I can mind that in the future.
> 
> Said that, again, I hope you enjoy!

It’s impossible to think when hunger hits. When you haven’t slept for days. When the last time you saw water was from a man peeing onto the street. 

It’s impossible to _survive_ when they are just kids and they have nowhere to go.

They have never had anywhere to go.

Chanhee’s hold on Haknyeon’s hand gets tighter when two policemen pass by their side. He’s not much older than his brother (brother, not because they have the same mother, but because he’s all the family he has ever had), but he knows a bit more about life. He knows what will happen if they catch them. Orphanages are worse than hell. And Chanhee is _not_ willing to go through that.

Not again at least.

It’s easy for them to sneak behind the crowd walking along the street, steal two pounds and a piece of bread from an old lady and turn the corner into the closest hallway. They have to eat fast so that nobody notices the robbery. That’s what makes them hungrier in the end: not being able to appreciate the food even for a few seconds.

They live on the run, and it is what it is. They have no time to rest. Every single movement has to be quick and precise, or they’ll be screwed.

When they finish their fast meal, they keep walking through the Whitechapel streets. They spend their whole life walking aimlessly through the busy capital in search of nourishment and warmness. It’s hard to find, though, when almost everyone is just as bleak as they are, as poor as they are.

“I’m thirsty.” Haknyeon is looking up at him with big doe eyes. His hair has grown to the point of being unruly, and his clothes are as dirty and broken as Chanhee’s. The winter is soon to come and they have nothing to cover themselves with. The older feels guilty about it, because it’s the same every single time. Last year they seriously almost died. The London cold is nothing to joke about. They know that for a fact.

“We can’t do anything about that right now, and you know that.” If Chanhee’s voice threatens to tremble, he doesn’t let it show. His hand has never released the hold from his brother’s hand. “When did you last drink?”

He stops behind an old market stall to turn around to see him and cup his face. His skin is a few tones too pale and glistening with sweat. They have been running the whole day. “Yesterday, I think.” His voice is nothing more than a thin thread of sound.

Now, _that_ makes Chanhee worry.

He has always made sure that they, at least, drink water once a day. From where? It doesn’t really matter, as long as it gives them enough strength to keep going.

Haknyeon doesn’t really look like he’s able to keep going.

Chanhee doesn't want to admit that he’s panicking, but that’s exactly what he’s doing. How could he not have realized Haknyeon’s clear lack of energy during the whole day? He can’t let this go further.

“Haknyeon look at me right now.” His grip on the younger’s face gets tighter when he starts closing his eyes. “Haknyeon!”

“For how long are we going to be like this, Chanhee.” He’s crying. He’s wasting the last ounces of water inside his body and spilling them out of his beautiful eyes. “I’m tired. I’m so tired of everything.”

He’s taking all his willpower to not cry as well. He’s also desperate. “But there’s nothing we can do about it.” And it is what it is.

“We can go to an orphanage, I’ve been telling you for years!” The tears won’t stop coming out of his eyes. He’s speaking way too loud, some strangers passing by and sparing a few glances to them. “It can’t be that bad, Chanhee, we just need food and water and a bed to rest in, and then we’ll be free.”

The thing is, not everything is as pink as it looks like.

Chanhee has a good reason why to not want to go to an orphanage. The scars on his back are enough of a reason to not want to go there ever again. He was only seven years old. He was just a little kid. And now, four years later, the marks are still there as a reminder of what he is.

Nothing. He is nothing. 

He used to count how many times he got hit with the whip each night. The number got so high that he stopped counting. At least, he’s relieved that his brother didn’t have to go through that. He feels at peace knowing that Haknyeon can still have a little bit of hope in humanity.

Chanhee will never have it again.

“No orphanages.” He’s holding his hand again, leading him through the londoners. The sun is already setting down over the skyline. They have to be quick if they want to find a decent shelter for the night. 

There’s too many people in the streets. They stumble with everyone, softly mumbling unheard apologies and keeping on walking. _Maybe there’s nobody under the big bridge,_ Chanhee thinks, tugging on Haknyeon’s hand harder to make him walk faster. He still hasn’t stopped crying. Chanhee wishes he could stop even for a second. Just to let his own mind rest.

They crash with a woman when they turn to the next street. 

Instead of keeping on walking, the woman stops, blocking their way.

“Where are you going to be walking that fast, kids?” Her voice is too deep to belong to a woman, but not enough to be recognizably a man. Chanhee doubts their gender but won’t look up. He’s holding onto Haknyeon’s hand so hard he knows he’s cutting his soft skin with his nails. 

They’re not dressed like all the poor population of Whitechapel does. Their boots are made of good leather and decorated with golden laces. Their long, black dress is also ornamented with beautiful white and golden ribbons, and the corset they’re wearing makes their waist look too small to be a man. When Chanhee finally dares to look at their face, he notices that their hair barely reaches their shoulders, the mane black like a raven’s feathers. Their features don't show any wickedness. On the contrary, their expression softens the second Chanhee looks straight into his eyes.

It’s a connection. Chanhee feels like they have met a long time ago.

His instinct is telling him to trust them. So, loyal as always with his senses, he does.

“We’re searching for shelter.” Chanhee is confident when he speaks. He even straightens his back in an attempt to look taller. He doesn’t even reach the corset hugging their waist with the top of his head.

Their smile is bright enough to make both of them feel warm for days. “You have stumbled upon the right person, kids.” They are holding both their hands out for the kids to take. Chanhee doesn’t hesitate. Haknyeon, following his brother forever, also doesn’t.

“My name is Hyungseo, by the way.” They speak as they lead them through the city. They walk through streets Chanhee has never been before. “But just for you two, my name can be Kevin. Just refer to me with that name when we’re alone, though.” They turn their head to wink at the kids, later tugging harder to urge them to hurry up. The watchman has already started to light up the old streetlights, hitting with his club anyone who gets in his way. 

They don’t talk anymore until they reach their destiny. It’s a discreet establishment, the facade looking the same as all the other houses surrounding it, with the little detail of a half moon painted in black on the middle of the main door. That’s the only thing that makes the house stand out. Hyungseo makes sure to keep the kids’ heads down when they walk into that place, leading them through the long hall until they reach the last door.

Chanhee is not stupid. If Hyungseo thinks he doesn’t know where they are, they’re so, _so_ wrong. He has heard stories about places like this. The old men call them brothels. Apparently, it’s a place where men come to meet women. For what? Chanhee doesn’t really know. He has always wondered, seeing as everyone is so interested in this, some men even stealing money to afford to come here. Chanhee also wants to meet these women, he has always wanted. Maybe they’re nice and he can befriend them. He has never had a friend, apart from Haknyeon, surely.

The weird noises coming from behind the multiple doors along the hallway don’t sound too friendly, though. He can hear women screaming, or something similar to it, and men laughing. It smells weird too. He recognizes it soon: opium. He smelled it first one of the years he got into an orphanage. It makes people turn into demons. _He’s scared now._

“Okay, we’re finally here, kids.” Hyungseo sits down on the big, red velvet-covered bed in the middle of the room, and encourages them to sit down on the chairs in front of them. Chanhee doesn’t look around the room much. He can already tell that it’s decorated in burgundy and golden tones, he doesn’t need to see much more. He’s already scared and tense enough now that he has noticed that brothels aren’t as nice as he thought they were. He can’t stop wondering if those women are really in pain right now.

“We’re not kids.” Haknyeon is looking down, fidgeting with his fingers. His palms are marked by Chanhee’s nails. He hates himself for hurting his brother. “We know what life is about.”

Hyungseo stands up right then, walking to the side of the room to take a golden jar and two glasses, pouring water in them and handing the beverages to both kids. Haknyeon nearly drowns into his glass, swallowing the whole thing in a second. Hyungseo laughs, pouring more water after he’s finished, and like that until the jar is empty. Chanhee is more chary than him, though, only drinking half of his glass and leaving it to rest on the floor by his side. He doesn’t know for how long this luxury is going to last. He better not waste it quickly.

“Believe me, I know.” They sit back on their place on the bed, leaning down to start taking off their boots. There are drawings on their legs. Tattoos, Chanhee guesses. He has also seen those a few times, from gem dealers and pirates. “You two are so brave, you know that?” Silence. Chanhee makes sure with a glance that Haknyeon doesn’t speak either. “For how long have you two been wandering around the city? You’re young. But you look like you’ve seen death before your eyes.” They point a slender finger at Chanhee. “Especially you.” 

“Does it matter?” Chanhee is determined to not get intimidated by the stranger. His grip on the chair is so hard his knuckles turn white. “Why did you bring us here. How can we trust you.”

“I can’t do anything to make you two trust me, _kids,_ so it’s up to you if you don’t. But I’m giving you a warm meal every day and a ceiling to live under. I don’t know about you, but I would give it a try if I were you.”

They don’t really look like the kind of person that would hurt them. Their expression is soft and without any sparkle of malice. And they are right. The brothers should give it a try. They can always run away if things turn darker. It wouldn’t be the first time, after all.

“You want something in return.” Chanhee’s gaze is almost piercing. Nobody would say he’s only eleven years old. He has got that determination in his eyes. “Nothing comes for free.”

Hyungseo finds themselves laughing at his words. It’s true: they already have a plan for them. “I just want you two to clean the rooms after the night services.” A particularly loud scream from the next room stops their words. “You see… This is a… though work? Needs a lot of cleaning and the girls are sick of doing it themselves. There are just ten rooms, five for each of you, it will only take you an hour a day. And all the rest, is free time for you two.”

Chanhee _is_ thinking about it. When he balances the options they have, he notices that this is the only way to stay alive. He’s risking their lives in trusting this unknown person who goes by _Hyungseo,_ but it’s either this or the street. This is better for Haknyeon. This is way more safe for him. And Haknyeon’s safety is the first priority for Chanhee.

“Okay.” He says nonchalantly, crossing his legs and leaning back on the chair like he has seen the fancy women do. “We accept. But only if you promise that you won’t throw us away when you get bored of taking care of us.”

Hyungseo’s smile is, again, so warm it makes Chanhee forget about the approaching winter. “Believe me, son. That’s nothing further from what I want.”

  
  


*****

  
  


Chanhee wants to cry when he sees the room Hyungseo offers him. Haknyeon and him are sleeping in separate rooms for the first time since they have known each other (but have they ever had a proper room, though?). He’s nervous about that, anxious that something might happen to his brother if he’s not there to take care of him, but Hyungseo manages to calm him down.

His room is absolutely beautiful. At least, for him it is. The space is small, but big enough for a little kid like he is. It has a comfortable-looking bed in the middle, a small rag doll in the middle along with a pillow for his head. There’s also a small tub full of warm water on a corner, waiting for him. He feels like his body is melting when he gets rid of his disastrous attire and enters the tub.

“When was the last time you bathed, Chanhee?” Hyungseo says as they start soaping his body. Surprisingly, it doesn’t feel awkward. It won’t as long as they don’t see his back. He made sure to hide it when he had undressed.

“I don’t remember.” The answer is simple. And it is the truth: he doesn’t remember, he doesn’t know. It’s not like they had a lot of water to spare. They drank everything they could get, and it was really rare to find a lot of water. So they just didn’t take baths. They used the river when it turned to the point of being disgusting, but those times were rare.

“Okay, turn around.”

Chanhee tenses inside the small tub. It’s logical that Hyungseo wants to wash his back. It’s logical. But he can’t do that. He doesn’t want them to see his scars. He can’t show his weakness. To anybody. Not even Haknyeon has seen them.

“No.”

“No? What do you mean ‘no’, kid?” They grab his shoulders and try to turn him around. Chanhee uses all his strength to stay still. But Hyungseo is stronger than him.

The gasp that comes out of Hyungseo’s mouth is more than audible when he turns Chanhee’s body around. The younger can feel the tears starting to run down his face.

“Honey…” Hyungseo is tracing the scars with their fingers. They are everywhere along the otherwise soft skin of his back. There are small ones that look like knife cuts, and bigger, deeper ones that were clearly made by a whip. It breaks Hyungseo’s heart in a hundred million pieces. “Who did this to you? These are old…”

“Promise me you won’t tell anyone.” Chanhee manages to say in between his sobs. He has never felt this vulnerable in his whole life. Not even when he used to beg for food downtown. Not even when the nuns at the orphanage slapped his ass in front of everyone when he tried to escape, as if they were teaching him a lesson. “Promise me you won’t tell Haknyeon.”

“Lying is not good, little one.” They soap his back nonetheless, trying to not look affected at the way the bumps over the skin feel under their fingers.

“But it’s the most fun I can have.” He laughs bitterly. Because it is true. That’s the most, and the _only_ fun he will ever have.

“You’re such a clever little kid. How old were you again?” They turn him around again, using a jar to pour the warm water over his hair. “Oh, we have to cut these hairs, Chanhee. You have to look more proper.”

“I’m eleven.” He hesitates before saying the words he has been dying to say for the last few hours. “What do you really want from my brother and I, Hyu- Kevin?”

Another sigh from them. It takes them a few seconds to finally reply to Chanhee’s question.

“You two seemed to be in serious trouble. Your brother was dehydrated and you were too. There’s no real intention in this apart from me wanting to save you. Also, I’ve always wanted a son.” Their smile is bitter as their hands keep on washing his hair. They turn back to take the scissors over the table and seize the opportunity to cut Chanhee’s hair. “So now I have two, I guess.” They are carefully cutting the long, dark strands to make him look more decent. He guesses that they had done the same to Haknyeon before heading here. 

“I’ve never had a parent.” Chanhee finally lets himself relax into the touch, closing his eyes as Hyungseo’s hands keep working on his hair. “So far I think you can be a good one for me. For us.”

“You can’t imagine how happy hearing those words is making me.” They give the last final touches to his hair and pats his head after they finish. “I know my work isn’t any sort of conventional, and it’s not the right environment for kids like you, but it’s the best I can give.”

“And that’s enough, Kevin. That’s more than enough.”

  
  


*****

  
  


They are _disgusted._ If the poor kids had known any curse words, they would have surely used them when Hyungseo leads them into the first room they have to clean. It’s just… Awful. 

Chanhee would die to understand where all those stains come from. Who is so clumsy to be spilling their milk all over the place? And what has that to do with the women screaming last night when Hyungseo brought them here?

_Oh, if the innocence just lasted forever._

“Chanhee, this doesn’t smell like milk though.” Haknyeon says, concern on his face. Chanhee thinks he looks quite adorable with his new haircut. And the fresh clothes look good on him. On both of them, really. 

“Don’t question it and start cleaning, the sooner we finish the sooner we can get out of here.”

It’s a funny way to start their routine. But it doesn’t stay fun for much longer. Both of them lose their sense of innocence way too fast for Hyungseo’s liking. 

Chanhee is only thirteen years old when he discovers what really happens there, in the brothel, inside those rooms. He accidentally steps into a room to clean it like every single morning, but there’s still a couple there. He watches the scene with wide eyes: the tears running down the woman’s cheeks, the grin painted the man’s lips, the way he thrusts, and thrusts, and _thrusts._ He leaves the room running as fast as he can towards Hyungseo’s own, tears streaming down his face with no intention of stopping.

That day, Hyungseo feels compelled to finally explain to the kids what is going on. Haknyeon listens with confusion dancing inside his big eyes, and Chanhee just keeps crying because he thinks that what he saw was horrendous.

When he turns fifteen, Hyungseo teaches them how to fight. They teach them how to slice a neck or stab a heart with a dagger, and how to aim a gun to a head and not fail in the first shot. They say it’s for protection. But it just makes Chanhee and Haknyeon feel more unsafe. They also give them their own daggers and tell them to keep the weapons always close. Chanhee ties the sharp blade to his thigh with a leather strap, and never leaves his room without it. Hyungseo confessed to Chanhee that if any policeman comes into the brothel and sees that they’re orphans and that Hyungseo’s adoption is not legal, they’ll be fucked up. So they better know how to protect themselves. They better know how to _kill._

The brothers are no longer on the run. But somehow, they feel like they still are. Each day that passes, Hyungseo becomes more secretive and cryptic, as if they were planning something. When Chanhee is already eighteen, he catches them killing two of the girls who worked there. He doesn’t question it. He never does.

Questioning anything that Hyungseo does, is leading him and his brother towards misery. It’s better not to be nosy and to stay alive. In the end, he’s sure that Hyungseo loves them as if they were their children, and that they want the best for them.

So, as long as they stay safe, he’s okay with any collateral damage.

_He needs them to be safe. They have gone through too much already._


	2. Camisado

“We have to talk.”

Chanhee knows he should be scared when he hears those words coming from Hyungseo’s mouth. Today is his twentieth birthday. And because of that, he feels like something bad is gonna happen. Maybe they kick them out. Maybe they finally got tired of them. Or something worse. He knows what Hyungseo is capable of.

The truth is that that’s not even close to Hyungseo’s real intentions.

“You two are going to start working.”

Haknyeon exchanges a look with his brother before looking back at Hyungseo. Chanhee is proud to say that his brother has grown into an incredibly handsome man: tan skin that shines under the dim light of the candles, plump lips that anyone would die to kiss, and dark eyes that hide the deepest secrets inside the orbs. Chanhee hasn’t had the same luck with puberty: he thinks that he still looks like a little child, his features soft and almost femenine.

“We already work though..?” Haknyeon lifts his eyebrows at Hyungseo in search of further explanation.

The older brushes long fingers through his dark hair, looking down at the floor in an attempt to avoid their sons’ gazes. They look beautiful today: a white loose blouse accompanied by black pirate pants. They showed the tattoos down their shins, dark as ever. They had probably retouched them not so long ago.

“I mean… Other kind of working-”

“No.” Chanhee is quick to cut them, holding Haknyeon’s hand and making him stand behind his lean body. He’s thin, but he’s still taller than both his brother and his parent, so by now this will do. “We’re not going to be like those whores, Hyungseo.” It feels bitter on his tongue, calling them by that name when he always calls them Kevin. Chanhee knows he will make his point clear that way, calling them by their real name like they hate so much.

“You haven’t even let me finish, for the love of God.” They step back, letting their sons know that they’re safe. “You say it as if it was a bad thing.”

“Isn’t it? Letting someone use your body as they please, not letting you say a word? It’s fucked up. So fucked up.”

“Watch out that language, kid.”

“I’m twenty years old. I’m not a fucking kid.”

Chanhee is mad. Hyungseo is exasperated. And Haknyeon, he’s confused. Everything is a mess, and they’re just about thirty minutes away from the start of the night.  _ Great. _

“You won’t have to work every damn day, okay? Marine got pregnant once again, and Alissa fucking escaped last night to Wales, so I need you. It will be temporal, I swear, and you don’t have to have sex with anybody, okay? You won’t even need to get naked.”

They look directly into Chanhee’s eyes with those words. They know that one of Chanhee’s biggest fears is someone seeing the injuries on his back. 

“Promise us it will be temporal.” Chanhee relaxes his hold on his brother’s hand, just a little bit. “And that we won’t be forced into anything.”

Hyungseo sighs, their hand still gently brushing over their long hair. They have that habit when they’re nervous. Chanhee finds it endearing, at the bottom of his heart. Now, though, it just makes him more anxious.

“You know I will never do anything to hurt any of you two. You’re the closest I’ve ever had to a family, and I know you feel the same about me. Just trust me, only for this once. I promise nothing bad will happen to you.”

Chanhee really thinks about it. He’s not stupid, he has noticed the way his brother looks at the men that enter the brothel every night, somehow wishing they came for him. He knows the way his brow furrows when he sees Hyungseo’s  _ special and only client _ come every now and then, hidden under a black hood and his darkest clothes to hide himself from curious eyes. 

He knows that Haknyeon wants to try this just for the fun of it. Because that’s the way he is: adventurous and brave and willing to do new things every time they are presented to him. He himself is not that happy with the idea, but it can’t be that bad. He doesn’t have to undress, he doesn’t have to get touched. It’ll be fine, really. 

They’ll be fine.

“Okay.” Chanhee speaks, and Hyungseo swears they feel a weight falling off their shoulders. “We will do it. But if  _ anything _ happens, you can’t force us to keep going. We’re both adults now and we can leave whenever we want.”

“It’s fine for me too.” Haknyeon speaks from behind him, Chanhee smiling when he sees the light on his eyes. He’s just accepting for his brother. 

“Shit, thank God… I swear I will give you the most delicious food and everything you want just… Thank you so much.”

Chanhee laughs at his parent’s eagerness. They must really need them, it seems.

“No need to give us special treatment, Kevin. We know you love us.” He starts walking out of the room, but a hand on his wrist stops him. It’s Hyungseo, making him stay for a little longer.

“You can go, Haknyeon. I have to talk with your brother.” They release the grip on Chanhee’s arm when Haknyeon closes the door behind him, sitting on their bed and aiming at the chair in front of them for Chanhee to sit there. It reminds him of the night they first met. He was so young back then. So  _ scared.  _

“What do you want now.” Chanhee says, and his voice sounds rougher than what he wanted it to. Hyungseo is handing him a glass of wine before he knows it, so he happily sips on it, swallowing half of its content easily. He’s more used to the burning alcohol than what he would like to admit.

“I want to protect you while you do this.” They stand up from the bed, opening their wardrobe and throwing a few dresses to the bed. Chanhee watches their movements curiously, not really knowing where this will go. “You’re not gonna be Chanhee, the orphan boy. You will be Ruby,” they throw another dress to the bed: this one is burgundy and black, catching Chanhee’s attention with its delicate fabric, “and you will be a girl.”

Chanhee doesn’t know if it’s a joke or not. But by the way Hyungseo is taking that same burgundy dress and handing it to him, he guesses that they’re not joking.

“Don’t you think that this pretty little lie will be uncovered before you planned, Kevin?” He takes the dress and starts undressing to try it on. He’s no longer scared of showcasing his scars to Hyungseo. They always reassure him that those marks are what make him strong, and that, even if it’s just in front of them, he should be proud of the meaning behind them. “What is between my legs doesn’t belong to a woman and you know that far. The  _ clients _ know that far.”

Somehow, the dress fits perfectly on his body. It’s tight against his torso, making his waist look more pronounced than what it already is, but the skirt is capacious, flying when he turns around and brushing his toes when he stands still. 

“I told you that you won’t undress nor get touched. Your job is to pleasure. You don’t need your cock for that.”

“And what about me.” Hyungseo hands him his dagger as he speaks, along with the leather strap. He shivers at the feeling of the cold blade directly against the soft skin of his thigh.

The older can’t avoid the bitter laugh coming out of their mouth when they hear their son’s words. “I thought you knew how this shit works, Chanhee. Sadly there won’t be any pleasure for you.”

“But you have pleasure with your own client. I know that far.” 

He’s currently standing in front of the golden-edged mirror, checking himself out. He thinks that he could get used to wearing dresses, just like Hyungseo frequently does. They’re more comfortable than any kind of pants, leaving more freedom between the long limbs.

“And you also  _ know _ that my relationship with Joonyoung goes… A little beyond that. He’s my only client and it’s different. You can’t compare that to… You. I don’t do it for the money. I do it for him.”

“I’m scared of doing this.” Chanhee finally confesses. A stray tear threatens to run down his cheek, but he keeps it in. He doesn’t cry. He hasn’t cried since the first time he met Hyungseo, nine years ago. Today won’t be an exception. Not by now, at least.

“I know.” They appear behind him, both still facing the mirror. Chanhee finds comforting the way their arms wrap around his now accentuated waist in a tight hug, their chin resting on top of his shoulder. “I know it’s scary but I need you more than ever. I promise you that you’ll be fine. You have your dagger anyway, you can defend yourself. Don’t be scared to kill. Don’t be scared of blood and death. Murder is necessary when the situation requires it.”

The soft rubs against Chanhee’s stomach help him in grounding himself. He trusts his dagger with his life, but even more than that, he trusts Hyungseo, the one who gave it to him. He has always found the weapon beautiful: the handle, as everything in the brothel and in Hyungseo’s general aesthetic, is made of gold, engraved with intricate flourishes all over. It has a dark red ruby decorating the pommel, and it’s then when Chanhee understands the meaning behind his made-up name. Ruby, exactly like the gem that always protects him.

“You can do this, okay?” They press a soft kiss against his shoulder blade, still looking at him through the mirror. The touch sends warmth all over his body.

“Okay. I can do this.”

  
  


*****

  
  


He can’t do this. 

His hands are trembling and sweating when he steps into the room. Hyungseo told him that it will take his client about ten minutes to arrive, so he pours himself a glass of wine and swallows the whole thing at once. He repeats the motion at least three times, until his throat burns, and then sits on the edge of the bed to ground himself from the sudden dizziness filling his head.

This room is nothing new to him. He has been cleaning it for nine years, after all. In fact, the familiarity of the place is what makes him feel a little more safe. He knows where the hidden gun box is. He knows where the hatch that leads to the basement is.

And most important, he can feel his dagger against the warm skin of his thigh.  _ ‘Don’t be scared to kill. Don’t be scared of blood and death. Murder is necessary when the situation requires it.’  _ His parent’s words repeat inside his head like a mantra. He has never killed, but he is willing to do it tonight if he needs to.

He bounces his leg nervously, still waiting for anyone to enter. He hasn’t been this anxious in all of his life. It’s like the whole world could fall apart in any second. Because he doesn’t know what to expect. He doesn’t know what to  _ do _ when the client comes in.

For him is embarrassing, the fact that he’s still a virgin. He doesn’t know to what extent Hyungseo is aware of that, but he figures that not so much when he is making him work in their brothel. His brother, on the other hand, has had multiple encounters with any foreigner he could wrap around his finger. Chanhee thinks that it’s because his brother is handsome and he’s not.

That must be the reason why. It must be that.

Suddenly, a few steps next to the door startle him out of his thoughts. He can hear Hyungseo talking with another man. All of his hairs stand on end.

He’s going to freak out.

“Hey.” Before he knows it, the man is inside the room. He should be in his fifties, his clothes fancy showing that he must belong to the high classes. His stare is incredibly frightening and intimidating for Chanhee, and all he can do to avoid him is taking a few steps back until his back comes up against the wall. “What’s your name, pretty?”

“R-Ruby…” He mumbles after a few seconds, his voice almost intelligible. The man steps towards him, so he presses himself further against the wall as if it could gobble him up and make him disappear from that room forever. 

The man takes another few steps forward, and it’s then when he realizes that maybe settling against the wall wasn’t the smartest idea. He moves his hand down his own leg slowly, just to feel the handle of the dagger under his skirt, and keeps his fingers there, just in case.

“Why are you there, hm? Aren’t you going to come here?” Contradictory to his words, he steps even closer, his feet inches away from Chanhee’s when he stops walking. He looks down, but the man grabs his jaw harshly and pulls his chin up. The same stray tear from before is now finally running down his cheek. But the man doesn’t care. 

“What do we have here?” He moves the hand from his chin to the curve of his waist, the other one slowly running down his thigh.

He has never felt this disgusted in his whole life.

With a push on the other’s chest, Chanhee manages to get rid of the man and run to the other side of the room, trying to lift the side of his dress with shaky hands to take out the dagger.

Sadly, he’s not quick enough. The man moves way faster than him, harshly grabbing him by his waist and throwing him over the bed with no care, making him scream in pain after the loud thud his back makes against the mattress. 

“Who the hell do you think you are, whore.” A hard slap comes to his face before he can process the movement from the man. He screams again, this time the name of ‘Hyungseo’ on his lips.

Nobody comes for him. There’s no scream loud enough for his parent to hear from where they are. He has to do this by himself.

_ Don’t be scared to kill. Don’t be scared of blood and death. Murder is necessary when the situation requires it. _

Murder is necessary when the situation requires it.

The man is prying under his dress. Chanhee tries to kick him but he’s blocked by the other’s body. He has lost his breath, he has already lost his voice, even if he has only screamed twice. He feels like he has lost his dignity as the man’s hands slide past his knees and lead dangerously close to where he definitely shouldn’t touch.

The situation requires it. 

And he’s determined to do it.

Maybe it is the adrenaline what impulses his next kick, because this one is the first one to actually work, hitting directly on the man’s stomach and pushing him back. He lifts his skirt, not caring about what the man can see under it, and takes the dagger from the strap fast enough, pointing it at his opponent with shaky hands. The rushed movement has made him cut the skin of his thigh accidentally, pulsating blood running out of the flesh.

It stings, but he doesn’t care. His mind goes blank when he tries to remember everything that Hyungseo has taught him about murder. The only way of killing now is the neck, as the man is covering his heart defensively with both hands, his eyes wide when he looks down at Chanhee. He can either stab the jugular vein or slice his throat from side to side.

“Don’t kill me, please, I have a wife and children, please, I’m sorry I will pay double but please, don’t kill me.” The man begs, and begs more when Chanhee tightens his hold on the handle.

Tears burn the orbs of Chanhee’s eyes. “Men like you are nothing more than a human waste.” He grabs the dagger with more precision, curling his fingers over the gold just like Hyungseo told him five years ago. “You are a disgrace to humanity.” He uses his legs to wrap them around the man’s waist, holding him in place when he tries to escape. He’s screaming like a disgusting pig about to be beheaded in a slaughterhouse.

“Who’s the one screaming now?” He pulls him a little closer, just to have a better angle to attack, and,  _ boom. _

Slicing a real person’s neck, instead of the animal flesh he used to practice, is much more shocking than what he had expected. The movement is not as clean and precise as he would’ve liked it to be, but it works, seeing the choking noises the man starts to make as blood starts to pour out of his body as if it were a waterfall. 

And it pours. A whole lot.

The burgundy on his dress is accompanied by an insane amount of blood when he looks down. It makes him scream and hold his own head in between his hands. He has just killed a man, the one whose dead body has just collapsed onto the floor in front of him. The blood won’t stop coming out. There’s so much, painting both their bodies, the carpet, the bed and  _ everything. _

“What did I do…” The dagger is forgotten by his side when he stands up from the bed and corners himself on the same wall from before. He can’t stop looking at the scene in front of him. At the inanimate body. At the blood. At the now stained red blade of his preciated dagger.

He doesn’t even have enough energy to scream again. The only thing he can do is stare, and cry. He cries, and cries, until the salty tears running down his cheeks almost equate to the amount of blood all over the floor.

  
  


*****

  
  


Ask Chanhee what happened in the last hour, and he would have no idea on what to respond. All he remembers is red, blood, and tears. 

“You did what you had to, okay kid? It’s okay.” Hyungseo tries to make him feel better, without results. At least their hug feels warm. It makes him feel alive. He’s trying to keep his eyes closed, but he really can’t help watching how his brother, Haknyeon, cleans the last few stains of blood over the velvety bed sheets and sprays perfume all over to try to mask the stink of death.

Chanhee has it impregnated inside his brain, so obviously the perfume does nothing for him.

Hyungseo had made sure the second they stepped into the room to get rid of Chanhee’s dress and order a random girl that was with them to burn it. Chanhee almost cries because of that: he already loved his new dress.

They had asked him, after making sure that he covered his back with a clean shawl, about the cut on his thigh. He had forgotten about it. It doesn’t really hurt anymore. Not as much as his heart does, at least. Even if it was to defend himself, he still feels like an awful person for the atrocity he just committed. He would have never thought that his first client would end up like this.

“I’m sorry…” He speaks, his lips brushing their neck. The familiarity of this position makes him shiver. It’s the same than when Chanhee was young, innocent and scared, when he woke up drenched in sweat and screaming from a nightmare. 

Now, he’s also scared, throat raw from screaming, and drenched in sweat. But he’s not young, nor innocent anymore.

He has heard stories from the thousands of men that had entered this brothel. Most of them say that you lose your innocence when you relish on the feeling of a woman burning tight and hot around you.

They don’t know what murder is. They don’t know what dread is. This is what losing your innocence feels like. When you see death before your eyes and it’s too late to turn back.

“Why are you sorry, little one?” One of their hands moves up to caress his hair. He does feel like a little kid right now, embraced by his parent and clinging onto them with still trembling hands.

“For killing that man.” A new batch of tears threaten to run out of his eyes, but he won’t let that happen, not now at least. The night is not over for him, someone else will come in not so long. He better not fuck up then.

“Were you scared of him?” Hyungseo asks. He simply nods, carefully holding the new dress that his brother is handing him and patiently waiting for him to step out of the room to finally get rid of the shawl and get dressed with the new clothes. This one is black and white, flared long sleeves reminding him of a little bat. He almost smiles at the cute realization.

“Yes. I thought he was going to… Do bad things to me.” The sentence sounds a little too childish, but it’s the truth. He doesn’t want anything bad to happen to him. And he doesn’t want  _ anyone _ to touch him. It’s disgusting. It makes him want to throw up.

He doesn’t know how anyone can work in this. He doesn’t  _ get _ the point of having sex, the fun behind of it. He’s a virgin because he has never had the opportunity as well. 

Even though, if he’s being fair, the truth is that he has. A few girls had been interested in him when he started to grow up, every time trying to take him to their bed. He has had to reject each and every one of them. When he talked with his brother about it (who, no, is no virgin at all), he told him that maybe he was just attracted to men. But he didn’t find sex with men appealing either. 

At this, his brother told him that he was just a romantic guy and that he had to wait for the right person. Chanhee didn’t want to refute it, out of tiredness. Now, when he thinks about it coldly, maybe he was right.

“Then you did the right thing.” The soft caresses never stop, Chanhee welcoming them with open arms. His breathing is still heavy, but he thinks that he has finally managed to ground himself a little bit more. “Your next client is here. Do you want me to let him in already? It’s okay if you say no. You’re always allowed to say no.”

“It’s okay. I can do it.”

Hyungseo doesn’t need more words to place a kiss on top of Chanhee’s head and silently leave the room, a new man coming inside before the door finally closes. He has a beautiful smile that makes his eyes almost close in crescent moons, and at least he seems to be younger than the other man. He must be around thirty-five, just like Hyungseo. It somehow makes Chanhee feel better.

“Can I know your name?” Chanhee’s voice is like a thin thread of sound when he speaks. He’s sure that his eyes are red and swollen from crying, and his throat still hurts from screaming. If the man notices, he doesn’t dare to say anything.

“I’m Sangyeon.” The man is kind and gentle, Chanhee can tell that far. He’s not trying to fuck him in the first second, like the other man did. Instead, he makes himself comfortable on one of the chairs inside the room and grabs a glass of wine that was forgotten on the floor. He drinks from it regardless of not knowing where it came from. “You look like you had a rough day.”

Chanhee sighs, leaning back on the bed with his elbows holding his weight. “Really rough, if you ask me.”

The man, Sangyeon, is  _ absolutely  _ stunning in Chanhee’s eyes. His face is beautiful, his body strong and his clothes perfect. Still, he feels nothing. No desire. No want. No flame whatsoever.

“We can just talk, if you’d like.” Sangyeon stands up from the chair to get more wine. Chanhee smiles when he sees that he’s also preparing a glass for him. “You’re new here, right? I don’t remember seeing you before.”

Chanhee doesn’t remember him either. He has seen lots of men in these nine years, and none of them were remotely as attractive as this one in front of him. “You could say that, I guess.”

“And what happened to you? If I may ask.” He’s giving him the glass when he speaks. Chanhee shamelessly drinks the whole thing at once. It makes Sangyeon giggle. He doesn’t really look like the kind of person that frequents these kinds of places. Being so handsome, he could have any woman he wanted in the blink of an eye. He wanted to talk? Good, they will talk.

“I don’t want to bother you with that.” He picks a cigarette from the table, holding it with his plump lips as he searches for a lighter with his eyes. Sangyeon is already holding a burning match towards him. Chanhee leans over, invading Sangyeon’s personal space, to light up his cigarette, holding eye contact with the man the whole time and making him blush. “You don’t look like all the clients do. Why do you come here?”

His laugh is loud and beautiful. Chanhee can’t avoid the way his own lips start to curve as he drags on the cigarette and blows the smoke to the air.

“Can’t a man want to get pleasured?” His tone has changed from warm to cheeky, as if he had anything to prove. If he thinks it will astonish Chanhee, he’s very wrong.

“You can have anyone you want for free. You’re hot.” Another drag. Another sip on the wine. He softly shifts his hips to sit closer to the bed, closer to Sangyeon. He just wants to be suggestive: it’s his work, after all.

“You are, too. I have never seen a short-haired girl working in a place like this.”

Oh, yes. He’s supposed to be a girl.

Chanhee had almost forgotten about that little detail.

“Hm, I like it short. Do  _ you _ like?” He thinks that he’s being this bold because he’s getting drunk, but at this point, who cares? The night can’t go worse at this point. Even, he would gladly suck this damn man’s dick if he asked for it. He doesn’t care that he has no idea on how to do  _ that. _ It mustn’t be that hard.

He figures that the boldness is working, seeing how Sangyeon licks his lips and stares into his eyes with pure lust. This is fun if he thinks about it. Even more knowing how the only thing he’s doing is turning him on, and nothing else. He will  _ not _ touch him.

And it’s not because he doesn’t want to. He kind of does, as embarrassing as admitting it is. But because playing like this entertains him. Pretending to seduce him as if he wasn’t scared of him in the end. Pretending to be fine as if he hadn’t killed a man just an hour ago.

_ His own thoughts are starting to be contradictory. He thinks he’s going crazy. _

“I like it. You’re really pretty.” He moves his hand up, as if to caress his face, but Chanhee slaps it away with a smile before he touches his skin.

“I thought we said just talking, Sangyeon.” The cigarette is long forgotten in between his long fingers, just like the empty glass of wine. Both of them are smirking at each other, but Chanhee feels like they don’t have the same things in mind.

“Don’t you want to play?” He moves closer, a hand placed over the covered skin of his thigh. Chanhee doesn’t slap it away this time. It sends hot sparkles all over his body.

“I don’t, at all.” A devilish smile appears on his lips as he pushes Sangyeon back with little strength. He stands up from the bed, and pours himself even more wine. He has lost the count of how many full glasses he has drunk over the night, but they must be a lot with the way his head spins. “I think you should be going by now, Sangyeon.”

The man doesn’t protest. He stands up as well, his characteristic sweet smile still on his lips, and turns back to him. “You didn’t even tell me your name, babe.”

Chanhee feels like he’s floating when he looks up at him. Yes, maybe he has had a little too much wine. He doesn’t care though. He’s not the one paying for it.

“You don’t need to know that, my love.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter, more exciting things are coming next! (Yes, Younghoon, I'm talking about you.)
> 
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated.


	3. Lying is the most fun he can have without taking his clothes off

Chanhee really thought that his work couldn’t go as weird as it did last night.

Of course, he was wrong.

The  _ least  _ thing he was expecting from this night is what is happening right now: a big boy whose name apparently is Juyeon, clinging onto his side and crying like there’s no tomorrow. His sobs are loud enough to wake up the whole neighborhood, and his tears are soaking all of Chanhee’s white and golden dress. He has to resist the urge to roll his eyes every single time Juyeon’s grip on his skirt gets tighter and his sobs  _ even louder. _

“Can I know at least why the fuck are you crying, kid?” Chanhee brings up a dainty hand to hold his chin and make Juyeon look up at him. His eyes are swollen and red, but still dark and beautiful. “You booked me for a whole two hours, and I would rather not spend them like this.”

Juyeon, just like a cat would do, leans into the fragile touch of Chanhee’s hand against his face, sniffing cutely before speaking. “I don’t want sex.” He closes his eyes, now fully letting his head rest against Chanhee’s hand. He lets him. “I just want him.”

Chanhee’s eyes widen at the realization that the boy is, in fact, in love with another boy. He thinks about  _ maybe _ revealing his identity to him. Just a second later he discards that idea. Hyungseo would kill him if he did that with any client.

“I don’t know what I can do for you, little one.” Chanhee moves his hand from his chin to the back of his neck and leaves it there, his long fingers slowly massaging his scalp and playing with the dark curls.

“Can I tell you about him?” Juyeon’s eyes are big and glossy, his beautiful rosy lips slightly parted. Chanhee nods before he thinks about the consequences. 

“He’s a cabaret dancer. Yes, weird, I know. He goes by Hyunjae, but I know his real name is not like that.” He giggles like a fool, then keeps going. “He moves like an angel when he dances on stage, and like a demon when he fucks me. He’s the only person that has ever made me feel  _ so _ good. But-”

Juyeon stops his rambling when a new wave of sobs hits him. Chanhee does his best to comfort him, rubbing his back and caressing his hair, but he doesn’t look like he will finish soon.

“If he makes you feel so good, then what’s the problem? Why don’t you go with him?” Chanhee asks after a few minutes of incessant crying. 

“Because my family is part of the aristocracy and they will never let me go with a peasant, even less after they have prepared an arranged marriage for me with a duchess’ daughter, I don’t even know her because I don’t care, I just wanna be with Hyunjae forever.”

“Run away with him.” Chanhee simply says, as if it was that easy.

Running away… It sounds like a paradise for him. Escaping from the dark London streets, stealing a carriage with two horses and letting destiny take you to whichever destination it wants to. Running away to the green Wales fields, getting a farm away from any iota of human life, just him, the horses, a cow, and nature. Maybe someone else, too. A significant other, if that even exists. 

But Chanhee doesn’t think he will find one, in all of his life. So it will just be him, the horses and the cow.

Sounds good to him.

Not as much for Juyeon, apparently. Rich person things, he guesses.

“I can’t do that. Run away, where? I don’t know what to do without my parents, without their money and without my palace, I can’t leave the city. Even if it’s with him, he also has a life here. I don’t know what to do.”

Chanhee gently pushes him back when he hears his words. Obviously, the rich little kid that doesn’t know how to live by himself. He really should have expected it.

“Love, it’s not my fucking fault if you’re momma’s boy.” He spits the words with all the hate he can manage. Juyeon is such a fucking hypocrite for coming to him, a poor boy who has had to starve himself almost to death at the age of eleven, to tell him about his rich boy problems. “You get away from here and don’t talk to me like you know what life is about because you  _ don’t.” _ He stands up, forcing a still crying and confused Juyeon to stand up with him, and starts to push him towards the door.

“When you get that girl, you better fuck her at least twice as good as that dancer fucks you.” He opens the door, harshly pulls Juyeon’s shirt and practically throws him outside. “Fuck her deep and fuck her hard, or your son will maybe have another father, kid.” His smile is bitter, but he’s having the time of his life. Who would’ve told him that insulting a noble would be this fun? “Now get the fuck out of here.”

And, with that, he closes the door right on Juyeon’s face, laughing loudly once he’s inside the room alone. 

“Wow, that was fun.” He speaks to nobody as he serves himself a glass of wine. He has a lot of time before his next client arrives, so he takes it to go gossiping out the hall. Another girl is doing the same as him when he opens the door of his room. She’s leaning against the door frame, her clothes massively messed up, her hair messily tied up in a bun and a white stain still running down the corner of her mouth. She gives him a side-eyed glance and goes back into her room. Chanhee doesn’t really care. He gets those reactions from the girls almost every day.

They have always hated him and his brother for some unknown reason. Maybe they don’t like the special treatment Hyungseo gives them. But, hell, what were they expecting? They’re literally their  _ sons.  _ They’re not going to treat them like the whores those girls are. 

“Chanhee.” A sweet voice from the other end of the hall calls his name, making him look up. He grins the second he realizes who it is.

Joonyoung. The sweet prince, covered with his black hood but still carrying his characteristic bright smile with him. His presence is as angelic as it has always been, bringing so much peace to everywhere he goes. Chanhee still can’t believe that Hyungseo got themselves a man like this. They call it the  _ ‘luck of the madame’, _ but Chanhee knows better. He’s sure that Hyungseo picked the prince themselves. There’s no way that they casually found someone this perfect.

“Joonyoung.” Chanhee greets him the same way when he arrives at where he is. The prince leans against the wall in front of him, and he looks so damn ethereal, black hair falling over his well defined factions and tan skin. “I wasn’t expecting you today.”

“And I wasn’t expecting you to be working here, little one.” 

_ Well, I wasn’t expecting this either, _ Chanhee wants to say. Instead, he smiles. “You see, now I’m Ruby I guess.”

Now it’s Joonyoung’s time to laugh. “What a name. Hyungseo’s imagination is going overboard lately, isn’t it?” Chanhee swears that the prince’s smile could light up a whole street. “Talking about them, are they in their room? Tonight I don’t have as much time as I would’ve wanted to, I better not waste it.”

“They’re in their room, yes. Waiting for you as always, sweetheart.” He leans forward to pat Joonyoung’s shoulder. “Go get that ass, it’s waiting for you as patiently as  _ always.” _

“You’re insufferable, kid.” He says, still laughing, and proceeds to practically run towards the end of the hall. 

He envies their relationship in the best way possible. It’s clear that Joonyoung doesn’t come for the sex. He loves Hyungseo, and they love him too. Chanhee also wants that: to love and to be loved.

But he doesn’t know what love is.

He spends the few minutes waiting for his client drinking wine and smoking until he feels dizzy. After last night, he thinks that the drunkest he is, the better. The least he remembers after he wakes up tomorrow,  _ the better. _

The thud his body makes when he throws himself over the bed makes him laugh. He hasn’t even closed the door, he doesn’t give a fuck. He sips on the half empty glass again, and almost shivers when he notices that the strong alcohol has started to taste like water when it runs down his tongue from how used he is to it. 

“Hi?” A shy voice makes him open his eyes and stare at the door.

His jaw practically drops to the floor at the sight in front of him.

Chanhee can swear that the man standing under the door, a lost look dancing on his eyes, is the most handsome man he has ever had the pleasure to witness. He mustn’t be much older than him, and his figure is lean and tall. His face looks sculpted by the Gods, his dark hair framing it perfectly. 

He’s beautiful. Chanhee starts getting dizzy again. This time, it’s not due to the alcohol.

“Hi.” Chanhee lifts his body from the bed and fixes his skirt with his hands. They’re trembling for no reason. “You can come in. I don’t bite.”  _ Yet. _

“Oh, yes, I- sorry.” He chuckles in between his rambling. Chanhee thinks it’s adorable. He watches carefully as he closes the door and awkwardly stands  _ there,  _ not doing anything.

“You’re new.” Chanhee says, running a finger over his bottom lip and licking it right after.

“And you’re a boy.”

Chanhee freezes right then. Nobody is supposed to know  _ that. _ Nobody has even cared to notice. Meanwhile this guy, in just a few seconds, already knows. It makes Chanhee feel more interested than scared. And it shouldn’t be that way.

“I am.” He starts playing with the empty glass, tracing the golden flourishes with his fingertips. “Does that bother you?” He looks up at him with the biggest eyes possible, his lips suggestively parted and red from the tint of the wine.

“N-no.” He buries his face in his hands and sighs. It’s very clear that he’s nervous. Chanhee wishes he could do something, but his brain is too dazed with the man’s attractiveness. “Sorry.”

Chanhee feels bad for laughing, but he still does. He can see the flushed skin of his face from in between his fingers. He wants to touch, to caress, to  _ feel. _ But he has to wait to do that.

“Why are you saying sorry?” He spreads his legs, just a little, and stares at the guy until he dares to look down at him. “Come here.” Just a pat on his lap is necessary for the man to step forward. Pliant.  _ Cute. _ “What’s your name, pretty?”

“Younghoon.” His voice trembles, but Chanhee doesn’t care. He’s holding out his hand, waiting for him to take it. The smile that appears on his lips once he does is inevitable. The feather-like touch is making his skin tingle with want and something else. He’s curious about where that will take him.

“I’m Ru- Chanhee. I’m Chanhee.” He guides Younghoon to sit next to him on the bed. He’s stiff and tense like a rock. “What brings you here?”

“I lost a bet.” He confesses to him. Chanhee looks at him attentively when he sighs, looking up at the ceiling. His side profile is almost as breathtaking as the whole sight. “This is not my kind of… Stuff. God, I haven’t even had proper sex, what the hell am I doing?” 

He goes back to hiding behind his hands. This time, Chanhee softly wraps his own fingers around Younghoon’s wrists and moves them out of his face. The taller looks again at him with his beautiful big eyes, and it’s then when they notice how close their bodies are, their thighs brushing and their noses almost touching. None of them back up, though.

“If it makes you feel better, I also don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.” He moves his left hand up to Younghoon’s cheek, the latter leaning onto the touch. “But I really wanna kiss you, if that’s okay.”

The breathy  _ please _ that comes out of Younghoon’s plump lips is enough to make Chanhee lean in and press their lips together.

It is something Chanhee has never felt before. He has kissed, but he hasn’t ever felt this warmth spreading from where their mouths connect to all the expanse of his skin. Younghoon relents easily, letting his jaw slack and allowing Chanhee to explore inside his mouth with his tongue.

Chanhee thinks that Younghoon’s mouth tastes like strawberries and something else, sweetish like honey, and he relies on that taste and lets it guide his movements. He’s not thinking when he moves his body to climb up to Younghoon’s lap, both his legs caging the taller’s hips, but he gets no negative response so he keeps going. 

Younghoon’s sounds are sweeter than his mouth when Chanhee grinds down on him tentatively, still not sure of what he’s doing. Their skin is sweaty, their chins soaked in drool, and their whines desperate. 

Maybe this is how lust feels like, Chanhee thinks as he moves his lips down Younghoon’s jaw, leaving open-mouthed kisses all along the hot skin and nibbling his earlobe once he reaches there. Younghoon has placed one of his hands on Chanhee’s hair, more to ground himself than to control his movements. Chanhee wants to tell him to grab his hair and pull  _ hard, _ but he doesn’t. He doesn’t know how much his body would be able to bear the pleasure that that would give him.

“I’ve just met you.” Chanhee starts, now leading his lips down the long column of Younghoon’s throat, biting and licking the sensitive skin. “But I want you  _ so bad.” _ The words make Younghoon moan a little louder, but Chanhee isn’t lying. He has never felt this way, he has never felt this urge that is guiding his every movement, guiding his hungry mouth down Younghoon’s chest and his hands down his hips. He can feel the bulge between Younghoon’s legs every time he grinds down. He’s sure that he can feel Chanhee’s own as well.

“I want you, too,  _ please.” _ Younghoon doesn’t know what he’s begging for. But he’s begging and he wants  _ more _ of anything the other boy can give him.

“Do you want me to suck you off?” Chanhee lifts his gaze to look up at him but doesn’t let his lips stop, now drawing an invisible line down his sternum. He’s glad that the shirt Younghoon is wearing was already almost fully unbuttoned. Less work for him. 

Younghoon nods enthusiastically when he hears Chanhee’s words, leaning down over the bed, letting his weight rest on his elbows and leaving more space for Chanhee to move.

“I think I can do that.” He whispers to himself as he climbs down from his lap and kneels on the floor in front of him. Younghoon’s immediate response is to open his legs and grab his hair once again. Chanhee finds his desperation absolutely adorable. So beautifully endearing. 

“I’ve never done… This.” Younghoon says, later whines when he feels more than sees Chanhee getting rid of his pants, his cock slapping lewdly against his stomach.  _ “Fuck.”  _ Chanhee has wrapped a dainty hand around him, spreading the precum from the tip to the whole length in fluid movements, as if he had done this one thousand times.

“Me neither.” The truth is, he hasn’t done this one thousand times. He suddenly feels small at the realization that this is not only his first time, but Younghoon’s as well. It sends a shiver up and down his spine, and it’s exactly that feeling what motivates his next movement. 

He feels the flushed skin of his face burn in embarrassment when he gingerly wraps his plump lips around the tip and lets his tongue lap around the slit, every movement as careful as he can make it. He guesses that he must be doing something well when Younghoon’s reaction is a long, loud moan and a harder grip of his hair. The sudden sting on his scalp feels delicious, and encourages him to hollow his cheeks and suck, softly pulling out with a funny  _ pop!  _ that makes him giggle like a teenager.

“I’m so close already is embarrassing.” Younghoon’s laugh mixes with a moan, as Chanhee’s hand goes back to moving up and down his shaft, not leaving him any second to rest.

“Nobody is telling you not to come.” He tilts his head and rests it on one of Younghoon’s naked thighs, still moving lazily his hand but not paying much attention to it. “It’s cute to know I turn you on this much.”

Younghoon bites his lower lip, trying not to let another moan slip out, but his body fails him when Chanhee’s fingers start to rub at his tip and his lips begin to leave wet kisses all along the underside of his cock. Chanhee really doesn’t know what he’s doing, if he should be softly biting Younghoon’s skin like this or if the grip on his cock is too loose or too tight, but if it’s turning Younghoon on as much as it’s turning  _ him _ on, then they’ll be fine.

He thinks that he’s the one that should be embarrassed, the pressure on his groin and the ache on his cock so strong it makes him want to explode. And he hasn’t even been touched, all he has done being grinding on him and nothing else. Yet  _ still,  _ he’s feeling like this.

Maybe sex is fun, after all.

“C-Chanhee, I…” He tries to say, but his words are cut with a moan once Chanhee has his lips around his cock again, this time taking a little bit more and looking up at him with teary eyes. Younghoon couldn’t take his eyes off him even if he wanted to. He looks absolutely beautiful, red lips stretched around his cock, cheeks prettily flushed a soft shade of pink and glossy eyes threatening to let the tears run down his face. 

This time, the tears are not out of disgust or desperation. They are out of pure pleasure.

He thinks of moving his hand down to his own cock to touch himself, but discards the thought once Younghoon’s hands grab his hair even harder if possible and leads his head almost down to the hilt, his nose brushing Younghoon’s pubes and his cock reaching so deep it makes him choke, his throat clenching around him making Chanhee feel the sweetest pain possible.

That’s all it takes for Younghoon to come inside his mouth. Surprisingly, and in contrast to how he responded before, he doesn’t moan, his lips simply parted in a silent gasp and his eyes closed so tightly it must hurt. Chanhee pulls off slowly so as not to hurt him and swallows his release shamelessly. Younghoon looks down at him with heavy lidded eyes, his chest still going up and down unevenly. He can’t believe what just happened, even if he had watched all of Chanhee’s movements attentively with curious eyes.

“Let me return the favour.” He says when Chanhee stands up to grab a cigarette. His words make Chanhee stop dry, looking at him over his shoulder with a playful grin on his swollen lips. 

“You don’t have to return me anything. It’s my job.” He takes the cigarette from his brother’s silver pack and lights it with a stray match that is laid on the table. The taste of the smoke grounds himself, almost making him forget about the hot pain between his legs.

Younghoon laughs in disbelief, letting himself fall over the mattress. He looks like a whole mess, his shirt half unbuttoned, his spent cock softening between his legs and all the expanse of his skin glistening with sweat. “You didn’t do this because it’s your  _ job.” _ He runs his hand over his dark hair, pushing it away from his face. “Look me in the eyes and tell me that you didn’t feel anything. Then I’ll go.”

Chanhee knows it’s the moment to lie. He has felt  _ a lot  _ of things during these last minutes. Ever since Younghoon stepped into the room. He doesn’t know why, but he feels like he’s hypnotized by him. By the way he moves, by the way he tastes and by the way he sounds. He’s more intoxicating than any alcohol he has ever tried. 

And he weirdly feels like he wants him to stay. Not only now, but forever. He wants him to bend him over the table and fuck him until he can’t breathe, or to kiss him so deep that his lips and his tongue hurt. He wants him to hold him every night and to peck him good morning every day.

He wants everything with this stranger. But he can’t have anything.

“You can go, then.” Chanhee has to look away from him before he speaks. He can’t let Younghoon see the way his eyes are starting to drown in tears. “Because I didn’t feel anything.”

Both of them are holding their tears. Both of them feel the same way for each other. But this is the best he can do, Chanhee thinks. Even if he said the truth, it wouldn’t lead them anywhere. He can’t go with Younghoon, and Younghoon can’t stay here either.

This is the best he can do. Letting him go before their feelings reach too deep inside their hearts and it’s too late to back up without having them broken.

Chanhee is not made to be loved. He doesn’t think that love is real. And if it is, he doesn’t feel like he deserves it. All over his life, everyone has shown him that he’s worthless. Everyone has taken advantage of him as they please, treating him like a scumbag when he was nothing more than a kid. Even Hyungseo, as much as they claim to love him, doesn’t make him feel loved at all. Chanhee refuses to believe that their love is real.

He is not loved and that will keep being the same. Younghoon is not going to change it.

“We’ll see again, Chanhee.” Younghoon says, already opening the door and stepping out of the room. “Lying is not your forte.” 

Chanhee thinks it’s ridiculous how this is the second night in a row that he ends up crying on the floor. 

Maybe, just maybe, this is what life is about. Only pain and tears.

That’s all he has ever known, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Kudos and comments are appreciated ^^


	4. Time to dance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for any mistakes with the description of the theatre, I couldn't find any good picture of the inside as there was a fire that destroyed it a few years after the time this chapter takes place!

Chanhee has never really liked smoking. He has become immune to its addictiveness. He no longer feels anything when the heavy smoke fills his lungs, it doesn’t make him feel dizzy as it used to, it doesn’t help him ground himself anymore unless he mixes it with his daily insane dose of wine.

Still, when his brother asks him to smoke with him before the start of the night, hiding at the backdoor of the brothel, he just _can’t_ say no. 

It’s not like he has spent a lot of time with his brother since they started working here around two weeks ago. They have always done everything together, always _been_ together, so the change of events is making Chanhee’s level of anxiety reach the rooftop. He loves his brother more than anyone else in this world. And his absence hurts so deep inside his heart.

He thinks that each day that passes, his brother grows even more handsome. His skin shines under the moonlight as if he himself was the only source of brightness. His eyes, too, hold all the stars in the universe inside them. His bangs messily reach under his eyes and his mane is brushing his shoulders already. If Hyungseo saw him, they would scold him for not cutting and taking proper care of his hair. But Chanhee thinks that he looks even more beautiful like this. 

“I missed being with you.” Haknyeon says, exhaling the smoke to the air in between his words. His smile looks so jovial when Chanhee turns his head to see him. “I didn’t think this work would, you know, take us apart like this.”

Chanhee takes a cigarette from the silver pack, and places it between his lips without even lighting it. It feels so heavy for some reason. “Me neither. We usually met up at night before cleaning, so now it feels weird to have that time… Busy.”

“I know. It’s weird, honestly. I hope you’re doing well.” He smiles, later takes another drag while he closes his eyes. Nobody likes smoking more than him. Hyungseo tried to prevent him from becoming addicted to the drug when they were younger. Now, it is a little too late. “You know, after what happened the first night.”

He prefers not to remember that catastrophic event. It is practically erased from his memory as of right now. He doesn’t feel proud of what he did. He hates having to use his dagger for this, but he didn’t have any other option. It was that, or being forced into something he didn’t want. The man searched for that destiny himself.

That was the only issue he has had with any client, by fortune. All of them have been — surprisingly, he must admit — pretty considerate with his boundaries, not asking much as long as he blew them or jerked them off, or even comforted them in some cases like the Juyeon-aristocrat-guy. Chanhee _hates_ doing all of that, but it’s the best and the only option for him. 

He has only liked doing _that stuff_ once. He dreams about that moment every single night, wondering what would have happened if he let him stay. What would have happened if he didn’t neglect his feelings once again. He wonders if Younghoon would have fucked him just like he did in his dreams. He probably would. The man was _just_ as desperate as Chanhee himself.

Still, he thanks that he hasn’t seen him again. Because he knows that he won’t be able to hold back then. He could even _die_ just to accomplish all the fantasies he has. And yet, Younghoon is the only person that has made him feel like this. So desperate, so needy and aching for more.

“I’m doing well. The dresses work to hide the dagger and my real identity, so I’m fine. I’m still a virgin unlike you, you little kid. I take that as a win for me.” He messes up Haknyeon’s hair as he speaks. Instead of yelling at him like he had always done, Haknyeon laughs louder. _He has matured a lot now,_ Chanhee bitterly thinks. It makes him feel sadder than what he would like to admit. He misses Haknyeon’s big curious eyes, his innocent smile and his small hands. Where did all of that go?

“If you’re a virgin is because _you_ want to. You have had the opportunity, you can’t deny it.” He has already finished his cigarette, when Chanhee hasn’t even lit up his own. He knows he’s older than his brother, but right now he feels like _he_ is the kid. “I can’t believe that in two weeks you haven’t had any client that made you thought _‘can he fucking rail me please’_ like no, I can’t believe it.”

_Younghoon._

“Nobody comes to my mind.” He lies, taking his own cigarette and placing it in between Haknyeon’s lips. He will take better care of it. “Hyungseo told me you got yourself two regulars. I saw one of them yesterday, he’s cute.”

Haknyeon blushes like a teenager at the mention of them. Chanhee wants to pinch his cheeks, but he holds the urge back. “Yes, Youngjae and Sunwoo. They… I actually really love them.” He looks up at the sky. The simple action makes him look so dreamy. “Is it weird that I feel this way? I don’t know. They are so different, but I love them equally.”

“You should put them together and see what happens.” Chanhee jokes, letting his chin rest on both his hands. “Bet it would be fun.”

“It would be a mess.” Haknyeon laughs again. The stars inside his eyes look brighter now. Maybe he really is in love then. “But a good mess, I suppose. But you know how Hyungseo would react if they saw that I put two clients in the same room, they would kill me!”

“I heard that, kid.” A voice from behind them makes both boys whimper. Hyungseo, clad on their most beautiful white and burgundy dress, staring down at them with their arms crossed on their chest. They would look even intimidating if it wasn’t for the warm smile decorating their face. “And you better _not_ do that if you don’t want me to disinherit you.”

Haknyeon’s laugh seems to be unstoppable today, as he does it once again. It is so contagious that it makes Chanhee’s lips curve up. Just a millimeter. But they do curve up. 

“Jesus Christ, you scared me!” Haknyeon’s smile is so wide that Chanhee thinks that his cheeks must hurt. “I’m not going to do that, don’t worry Kevin. They’re fun enough by themselves, I don’t have to put them together.”

“Sure, kid, just say you couldn’t handle the situation and go.” Hyungseo’s smile is also bright when they walk to settle down in front of them, crouching to look their sons in the eyes. They have two small pieces of golden paper on their hands. Chanhee widens his eyes, suddenly interested. “I have something for you two. A little gift as a thank you for… All of this.”

It’s then when they hand both guys the golden papers. Chanhee takes one into his hands, and smiles when he notices what it is. A ticket for a cabaret show that takes place the following night, the word _Burlesque!_ written in big bold letters right in the middle of the ticket. 

“Oh my God, I’ve always wanted to go to one of these, but you always said they were too expensive!” Haknyeon jumps in excitement, almost throwing Hyungseo to the floor when he runs to hug them. “How did you get these? Shit, I’m so happy!”

“Watch out your language.” Hyungseo and Chanhee say in unison. The coincidence makes both of them smile. 

“You know I have… My own contacts, you could say.” Their smile grows wider the tighter Haknyeon hugs them. “And I want to give the best, for the best.”

Chanhee’s love language is practically non-existent, so he limits his actions to smiling at his brother’s behavior. Hyungseo knows more than enough that this is the way that he is. That he is just as grateful as Haknyeon, if not more, for the gift.

Hyungseo has never given them any gifts, after all. Chanhee considered the feeling of having a family enough of a present. He has never let them know, though. But the feeling is there. Hyungseo has made them feel loved and cared for, they have always helped them with everything and they are the sweetest human being in the world, even if their love language with their sons is almost as null as Chanhee’s.

The love language isn’t necessary, after all. Again, Chanhee is not _used_ to _love,_ so he doesn’t think it’s that essential. Obeying orders has been enough for both Hyungseo and himself all over these nine years. This is how they work, how they are, and they’re more than happy with it. They can’t imagine living in any other way.

When they start to work that night — after a _very_ enthusiastic Haknyeon has finally calmed down from his euphoria — Chanhee feels like… Like he’s not _there._ He dozes off at least three times during the whole night, one of those times almost (really, it was _really close)_ biting some guy’s dick off. The guy, Changmin if he remembers correctly, had reassured him that he — _she —_ was doing a good job and that it didn’t really matter. Still, Chanhee was pissed off.

Even when he goes to sleep, right when the sun starts to rise from behind the skyline, he’s still pissed at the fact that he doesn’t understand why he’s so distracted. It’s as if, somehow, his body is predicting that something is going to happen during the show. Maybe seeing _something,_ or maybe seeing _someone_ who he has been trying to avoid. His heart races when he realizes that, once again, he’s going to sleep with the thought of his lips against his own inside his devious brain.

  
  


*****

  
  


The following day elapses a little too fast for Chanhee’s personal preference. There seems to be a lot less to clean that morning, less time alone and _way_ more time with Haknyeon. He dragged him into his room right when they finished cleaning, and now he can’t seem to be willing to let him out.

“This is an only opportunity, Chanhee, we have to look good, you know?” Haknyeon babbles as he throws more, and more, and more clothes to the bed Chanhee is sitting on. For the first time in two weeks, he’s going to be able to not wear a dress. And damn sure his brother is going to take that opportunity to make him wear his nicest clothes.

“Give me the black vest, come on.” Chanhee stands up, taking a few garments just to shut his brother up and rushing to his own bedroom to get dressed. He doesn’t care about looking good as much as his brother does. He knows that Hyungseo is going to look about five times more stunning than both of them _together,_ so it’s not like he can compete with that.

When he looks at the mirror, he doesn’t think that the person that he’s seeing in the reflection _is_ him. He ended up picking almost the only black clothes of which his brother had. The vest under his long coat makes his waist look as slim as the tight corsets of the dresses do. Unexpectedly, he feels comfortable, even clad in these manly clothes. His usual attire consists of dresses and loose blouses, so _this_ should be weird for him. 

He attempts (and fails) to make his hair look more proper, and after getting his only pair of boots on, he steps out of his room, feeling like a whole other person. He doesn’t miss the face that _both_ Haknyeon and Hyungseo make at him when they see him, but he pretends that he just hasn’t seen it. His brother and his parent seem to be matching, both clad in beautiful burgundy and black outfits. Chanhee pretends to be jealous at being left out. Hyungseo just smiles in return.

The walk to the Olympic Theatre is a little longer than what Chanhee originally thought it would be, so he’s extremely thankful when they finally reach the place and enter the spacious hall. Chanhee is astonished to see the amount of _money_ agglomerated into that only place. Every single suit, every single dress, just looks otherworldly to him. 

“Stay close to me, kids.” Hyungseo says as they eye the crowd. Two guards are checking everyone’s tickets and leading them to their seats. “Nothing good is hiding under those expensive vests.”

Chanhee can’t say that he doesn’t feel lost when Hyungseo guides them through the people gathered in the hall and walks them to one of the boxes of the theatre. Hyungseo had promised them the best seats. And damn sure they got them.

Right in the middle, with the best view possible to the stage, their three seats are situated at the right side of the box. It is not too small nor too big, only ten velvet-covered seats filling the space. They’re the last ones to arrive.

It’s not like Chanhee pays attention to the people accompanying them, anyway, far more interested in keeping on listening to Haknyeon’s conversation as he reads the small programme he was given at the entrance.

He doesn’t feel the pair of eyes piercing his skin from the moment he steps into that place.

Right when he’s about to tell Haknyeon to _shut the fuck up before his head explodes,_ all the lights shut off. He startles at first, but Hyungseo whispers to him that this means that the show is starting.

He’s more excited than he has ever been.

The show is not like anything he has seen before. He doesn’t think that the posters he had seen on the streets make justice to just how _wonderful_ the whole scenery is. About a dozen women are currently dancing and singing on the stage, their cheerful laughs making Chanhee smile just as much. He thinks it should be illegal, just how _much_ skin he’s seeing. The show is inappropriate in the best way possible. He can’t say he’s not having fun.

Their costumes are beautiful, their hair is beautiful, their voices are beautiful, and the alcohol inside his flask _tastes_ beautiful. He’s enjoying this far more than what he thought he would, soon laughing along with the women’s commentaries and lewd jokes.

“Chanhee.” Haknyeon’s whisper draws his attention from the stage to his side. By his brother’s evil smirk, he knows that nothing good is about to come out of his mouth. “Someone has been staring at you since we entered. His face sounds familiar to me. From the brothel, maybe. He’s to your left, third seat.”

Haknyeon slaps his thigh playfully when he focuses back on the show, gin glass on hand. Even though he hasn’t said anything, somehow he _knows_ who that man is. He knows who is looking at him, even without checking it. The man he spent the whole night thinking about. He smiles at himself at the realization. 

This time, he’s not going to hold back. He’s been _aching_ for this moment. He needs him. More than he has ever needed anyone.

He is subtle when he quietly stands up from his chair and walks towards the curtain that separates the box from the hallway. In what he is _not_ as subtle is in the way he ‘accidentally’ brushes his hand over the man’s back.

Once again, his senses have been right. It’s Younghoon. Of course it’s him.

“I didn’t think we would meet again, Chanhee.” Younghoon says as he meets him in the hallway. He boldly takes Chanhee’s hand and presses his lips against his knuckles, keeping eye contact the whole time. It makes Chanhee’s cheeks tint a pretty shade of pink. “It’s a pleasure.”

“You’re all talk, Younghoon.” He leans against the wall, his hand still being held by Younghoon’s. He doesn’t want him to let it go.

“Do you want me to prove that you’re wrong about me?” He moves his hands to wrap them around Chanhee’s waist, now pressing him against the wall. They’re way too close to be considered friendly, their foreheads almost meeting. _Anyone_ can see them right now. “Do you want me to prove to you that I want you?”

“Yes.” Chanhee breathes out when he feels Younghoon’s lips against his neck. He involuntarily leans his head back, leaving him more free skin to explore, and his own hands find their place over Younghoon’s, as if that way he could control him.

He can’t control him, in fact. And he doesn’t want to.

A moan escapes from his mouth when Younghoon bites on the curve of his neck, his grip on his waist getting tighter and his wet sounds louder. He feels his face burn in embarrassment, but he doesn’t want him to stop. Ever. He doesn’t want any of this to stop.

“Let’s go to the restroom.” Those are the only words needed for Younghoon to practically drag Chanhee there. He wants to laugh at Younghoon’s eagerness, but he’s too turned on to even think about anything that isn’t the other man’s mouth.

He hasn’t noticed how incredibly beautiful Younghoon looks until they reach the restroom and close the door behind them, careful to lock it to prevent anyone walking in on them. He’s wearing more or less the same as him, except that he’s not wearing a coat and he has some sparkles of white and gold incorporated into his attire. He looks handsome, manly and hot.

It’s starting to drive Chanhee crazy.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you.” Younghoon confesses as he presses Chanhee to the wall once again. This time, both their crotches touch. They’re both already half-hard, moaning at the almost painful warmth forming in between their legs. Chanhee wants to grind against him, but Younghoon is already holding his hips still, not letting him move. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

“I’ve- _shit.”_ He can’t form a coherent sentence, not now when the other man is grabbing his clothed erection and sucking a mark on his neck. He feels the warm pleasure spreading from his groin all his body, making the tips of his ears blush a deep shade of red. “You’ve been inside my mind all the time.”

“Yeah?” Younghoon is running out of oxygen already, his breathing heavy against his sweaty skin. “What did I do inside that pretty head of yours, _baby?”_ He remarks the pet name with a harder grip on his cock, almost making him scream if it wasn’t for the hand he has just placed over his mouth. “Did you imagine how I could fuck you?” Another mark on his neck. Hyungseo is going to kill him after this.

His question gets forgotten as the other’s hands start to try to get rid of his coat. Chanhee knows what comes next. His vest, and his shirt. And under that, the scars. He’s still enough on his right mind to be able to stop him, instead turning their positions and colliding their lips together, trying to distract Younghoon from his main aim. 

The kiss is rushed, drooly and messy, but none of them seem to care. They are intoxicated by each other’s essence. And they just _can’t_ get enough.

They kiss for long enough to bruise their lips in between biting and sucking. Chanhee really thinks that Younghoon’s lips are about to draw out blood when they part after the shortest ten minutes of his life. He wants to whine at the loss of the other’s lips.

“You didn’t answer my question.” Younghoon speaks once they catch their breaths. He has his hands still wrapped around Chanhee’s waist, getting drunk on the realization of how _small_ it is. Chanhee feels like he’s going absolutely crazy.

“Sorry.” He says, lazily brushing Younghoon’s hair out of his face. It is soft to the touch. He absolutely _loves_ it. “I did think of you fucking me, yes.” He’s not even shy to admit it out loud anymore. He doesn’t feel like he should hide it from him. He even feels the urge to tell him about all his little secrets. “Did you think about me, Younghoon? About my mouth around your cock, or about how tight I would be when you slam me over a table and fuck me until I can’t breathe?”

Younghoon prefers to smile, rather than to scream. Just to not lose his smugness, even if he _really_ feels on the verge of tears right now. To say that he’s affected by Chanhee’s words is truly an understatement. They’re both driving each other crazy. And this is just from kissing and a little bit of grinding.

“Baby, you’re _evil.”_ He’s drawing little patterns with his thumbs over Chanhee’s stomach. Even through the layers of clothes, he can feel it as if it was over his bare skin. “You’re so evil.”

“Only for you.” He softly pecks his lips and steps away, taking the flask from his back pocket and drinking all the wine from inside. “I want to see you again. Meet me tomorrow at midnight outside of the brothel.” He comes closer again, leaving Younghoon breathless with another passionate kiss. “Don’t be late.”

With those last words, as well as with a devilish smile, he unlocks the door and steps out of the restroom, leaving a very amazed, confused, and _hard_ Younghoon still pressed against the wall, the most stupid smile painted on his face. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! We're already halfway through this ^^
> 
> Kudos and comments are, as always, appreciated :]


	5. Intermission

Just a glance outside of the window is enough for Chanhee to know that midnight is soon to arrive. He is nervous, for two main reasons. First, he’s sneaking out of the brothel for the first time since Hyungseo brought them here. He has never escaped or even _thought_ about it, so this behavior is new and unusual from him. He knows that, when Hyungseo notices, they will be disappointed. But he has a good reason to do this.

Second, he knows well enough what Younghoon and him will do. Sex. But not the messy blowjob or the desperate grinding, no. Full-on sex, naked bodies against each other and lustful moans filling the room.

_Naked bodies._

Chanhee has been thinking of a way of telling Younghoon to not take his shirt off for the whole day, right since they came back from the burlesque show. But he can’t come with an excuse good enough for Younghoon to believe him. 

He understands it in a way, he thinks as he keeps looking through the window, his chin resting on his hand. He understands why Younghoon might want to see him naked. But what _Younghoon_ doesn’t understand, is the way that Chanhee will break if he sees the mess that his back is. 

_But it can’t be that bad, if it’s with Younghoon. Because he trusts him with his life._

For some reason, he feels moony, still staring at the starry night. Foolishly _in love._ In love?

“Why did I put myself in this situation, for God’s sake.” He says as he stands up and gathers his things, putting them inside a small bag and stepping out of his room while he shakes his head to push the thoughts away. Both Hyungseo and Haknyeon are _busy_ right now, so to speak, so he doesn’t have to worry much when he walks down the hallway and finally exits the brothel.

Younghoon, of course, as the lovely man he is, is already waiting for him outside, leaning his body on the closest streetlight. He’s hiding under a black, long coat and a broad-brimmed hat, but he’s still as handsome as he has always been, even if unseen now. Chanhee’s breath stutters when, after a couple of seconds staring, he finally walks towards him. It downright stops when he notices that, under the hat, Younghoon is giving him his biggest and most sincere smile.

He yelps when Younghoon grabs his waist and brings him closer, joining their lips in a kiss that’s more loving than the ones they have exchanged before. As if there was no rush, they explore into each other’s mouths with their tongues and over each other’s torsos with their hands. Still, there’s no lust in it. Just them, savouring each other with no other intentions. _By now._

“Good evening, my beloved.” Younghoon says when they finally part, his voice as sweet as chocolate. Chanhee melts on his touch when he holds his hand and guides him through the dark streets, presumably towards his house. He doesn’t really have to ask. He already trusts him enough. 

“May I know what you have prepared for me, darling?” Both of them find speaking formally extremely hilarious for no reason. It’s the little things like this that make their hearts flutter.

“I prefer not ruining the surprise for my gorgeous guest.” He speaks as he turns around a corner and immediately after that, presses Chanhee against a fence, their bodies as dangerously close as they were yesterday in the theatre. “But I’m going to make you feel so good.”

Chanhee wants to moan at his words, but prefers not to give him that satisfaction, pushing him away with a single index finger against his sternum. “Then be a gentleman and carry me to your room, will you?” There’s a playful grin on his mouth that evolves to a surprised gasp when Younghoon hooks his arms under his knees and around his shoulders and carries him inside the house they stopped in front of.

Younghoon struggles with the lock. Chanhee laughs at him. 

The inside of the house is nothing too special. It’s not elegant, it’s not big, the decoration barely existent. They step directly into the living room, no hall or corridor to greet them. Chanhee doesn’t know if he should be surprised at the simplicity of his house or not. He doesn’t even know what he was expecting.

“Do you want anything to eat?” Younghoon asks when he softly puts him back on the ground. Now Chanhee is surprised that he’s not rushing things out. That he is taking his time in this. _Taking care of him._

“You.” He decides to be playful, curling his arms around Younghoon’s neck and stopping to lean closer right when their noses brush against each other. “Will you let me?” He moves his head to lazily lick under his ear, earning a _very_ pleased sigh from the other. Both of them are already feeling hot in between their legs. _They’re going crazy._

“I want to take my time with you, little one.” He moves a hand up to caress Chanhee’s cheekbone, the other hand a firm grip on his waist. _“Will you let me?”_

As a reply, Chanhee kisses him once again. This time, they obviate the softness, rushing the kiss just like Younghoon said he wouldn’t. He uses his grip on Chanhee’s waist to press their bodies closer, feeling against his thigh the hardness that the other’s pants are hiding. They feel warm all over their bodies, filled with lust, desire and something else. Love, maybe. But Chanhee prefers not to think about it.

“Okay.” Chanhee breaths over his mouth, grinding his hips up to meet Younghoon’s crotch. “Bed?”

He doesn’t have to say anything else, Younghoon already taking his hand again and leading him inside one of the rooms: his own, presumably. There’s no more furniture than a bed and a bureau, nothing else. Still, it feels cozy. He notices that the bed sheets smell just like Younghoon when he sits on the edge of the bed. 

Younghoon looks — and, really, _is —_ hesitant when he softly pushes Chanhee’s shoulders for him to lay on the bed and climbs on his lap. He’s sweating, nervous. This is not a one night thing. This is not sex without a major purpose. This _has_ a purpose, they’re doing this for a reason. Because they’re in love. _Love._

“You’re thinking too much.” Chanhee lifts his body to meet Younghoon’s, leaving his arms to lazily wrap around his middle. “I want this just as bad as you. So please, _please,_ do.”

Still, even after Chanhee’s reassurance, he’s skeptical when he gets rid of his own shirt, shyly covering his blushed face when Chanhee admires his body. He lets his hands wander through his skin, from his abdomen to his chest and up his shoulders. His skin is warm, but soft to the touch. When he grazes behind his back, he smiles as he feels the muscles tense and relax under his fingertips, his heavy breathing beneath his touch. He loves how, unlike his own, the skin on his back is perfect, smooth and pale. It makes him almost believe in the world once again.

“Aren’t you going to show me yours, Chanhee?” Younghoon says when he dares to uncover his face. He’s still blushing, his eyes still glossy. However, he looks more beautiful than ever. Vulnerable, small, dazzling, gorgeous. How can he be real?

In the end it’s Younghoon, the one that gets rid of Chanhee’s loose blouse. He awkwardly shifts so that the other’s fingers don’t touch his back. By fortune, he succeeds, Younghoon translating Chanhee’s movement as him trying to get comfortable under him. He just has to hide his back, not turn around, not letting Younghoon feel the scarred skin that covers him. That’s why, when his torso is naked, he leans back again to lay over the bed sheets. It’s a poor attempt to hide, but it’s better than nothing.

He’s stupid enough to forget about the fact that one of the scars goes around his hip, being visible even when his back is not. Younghoon caresses the damaged skin with trembling fingers, and Chanhee doesn’t understand why his eyes have widened, exchanging the dark want to bright concern. 

“Who… Who did this to you, Chanhee?” He follows the path of the scar, his fingers soon meeting with the mess that his back is. He gently grabs his waist to lift his body again, and it’s _then_ when Chanhee understands. As if made from acid, the tears start to burn inside his eyes when Younghoon gasps, grazing over the pale expanse of his back. He drops his face on Younghoon’s shoulder, and lets the tears flow, freely running down his cheeks without any intention of stopping. “Baby…” 

Younghoon doesn’t even dare to look at his back. The rough feeling is enough for him to know what happened. It breaks his heart in thousands of pieces, seeing how the person he loves the most is so broken. 

“You’re beautiful.” Younghoon whispers, kissing the crown of his head and caressing the scarred skin. When he finally looks down, he notices both the whip and the cut scars. Tears threaten to spill from his eyes as well. “So stunning, breathtaking.” He moves one hand towards his chin to lift his face, kissing his wet cheeks once they look at each other. “So delicate, just like porcelain.” He leans over him so that they lay on the bed in a more comfortable position. Chanhee exhales the breath he was holding once his back is safe from Younghoon’s eyes, even though he no longer cares. He knows that he means the words that are coming out of his mouth. He knows that he loves him, that he won’t judge him for his rough past.

And that’s why he wants _everything_ with him.

“Younghoon.” He holds his face with both hands, making him look directly at his eyes. They shine like the stars. “Make me feel good, okay?” The tears are still falling down his face, but they no longer matter. Nothing matters but their now, the moment they’re living together. “The scars don’t make me less of a person.” _As much as I think they do._ “I’m okay. Don’t worry about them. Now, make me believe that love is real. Make me believe in the world again.”

“I love you more than anything.” Younghoon starts a trail of kisses at his jaw, slowly moving down towards his chest, leaving a few love bites and kitten licks on his way there. “You’re the only good thing that I have.” He says, later kissing along his sternum and moving onto his abdomen, lapping at his navel and making him giggle at the ticklish feeling. Younghoon wants to make him laugh forever. “I can’t imagine my life without you, now that I have got it.” 

Chanhee doesn’t know what to say, and even if he knew, he’s not in condition to make a single word come out of his mouth. He feels more dizzy than any alcohol has made him feel. Younghoon is as intoxicating as a drug, in the best way possible. As if was floating over a cloud, and nothing bad could happen to him. 

“Have you ever…” Younghoon starts, getting rid of the last clothes covering Chanhee’s body and leaving him bare beneath him. For some reason, Chanhee is not embarrassed. On the contrary, he wants Younghoon to feel him, to _touch._ “Done… You know…”

Chanhee doesn’t want to laugh, especially when the tears from a minute before are still running down his cheeks, but nevertheless, he does. It’s lighthearted, and it manages to make Younghoon laugh with him, even through his nervousness. He wants the earth to swallow him whole. Chanhee’s pure smile, however, makes him want to stay.

It will always make him want to stay.

“No, I have never been fucked.” Chanhee says boldly, reaching up to caress Younghoon’s heated cheekbone. “And no, I have never stuck anything up my ass. So it’s up to you to figure out how, Younghoon.”

“How can you be so smug when I feel like a trembling flan?” Younghoon smiles down at him, undressing as well so that now both of them are naked. But, still, there’s nothing _carnal_ in this. Far from it, actually. There’s nothing but love filling their eyes when the orbs meet, nothing more than care in their lingering touches. 

Younghoon has already prepared for what is going to happen, so he just has to reach under the pillow Chanhee’s head is resting on to take the vaseline he had purchased that same morning. His hands still tremble when he opens the pot, when he takes a generous amount with his middle finger and reaches in between Chanhee’s already spread open legs, spreading the substance on his hole. 

“Put it in already.” Chanhee sighs, closing his eyes and leaning his head back on the pillow. He does his best to relax his body, but the moment he feels the single digit trying to get inside him, all of his muscles tense, not letting Younghoon in.

“Breathe.” Younghoon says, drawing soothing circles on his thigh with his clean hand. Now, he focuses again, and this time he finally gets in, barely an inch inside but, still, _inside._ And it feels huge despite being not even half a finger. He has had Younghoon already inside his mouth once, and it’s nothing to joke about. His breath stutters at the sheer realization. “How does it feel?”

He is moving his finger a bit deeper as he speaks, making Chanhee whine. It doesn’t really hurt, due to the vaseline, but it doesn’t feel precisely _good_ either. Chanhee doesn’t answer until Younghoon’s finger is fully in, knuckles pressing over his perineum from how deep he is. His fingers are long, exorbitantly so, reaching the most sensitive parts of all his body. He feels his own head spin.

“I don’t know.” He answers, laughing. It’s like he’s going crazy, and he never wants it to stop. “Try… Moving it. Please.”

Chanhee’s eyes are still closed, and have been since the first touch. He’s not planning to open them any time soon. Or that’s what he thinks, until Younghoon withdraws his finger to let it back in and _he sees stars,_ his eyes opening wide. He moans, _loud,_ because it feels way better than the first time. The sound startles Younghoon at first. But when he realizes that it is nothing but out of pleasure, he keeps going, setting up a slow, but deep pace that makes Chanhee want to cry again.

“Fuck… Fuck, fuck, fuck, _fuck.”_ Chanhee breathes out, grabbing the sheets so hard it turns his knuckles white. “More.”

Younghoon doesn’t need more directions to know what he wants. Slipping his finger out — which makes Chanhee whine at the loss of contact —, he takes the vaseline again and picks up an amount just as big as the first one, warming it between his fingers and slipping them in again, this time two digits instead of one. Chanhee grinds against Younghoon’s fingers, even if the stretch still burns, and he takes it as the cue to move again, this time more with the purpose of opening him up than of getting him off. Chanhee feels like he could come from this, anyway.

“Hoon…” He reaches up to grab Younghoon’s hair softly, guiding him down to meet his lips. The kiss is soft, slow and loving, a sweet contrast to the uniform pace of his fingers. Younghoon takes advantage of the added distraction to make a third finger join the other two, drawing a louder moan out of Chanhee’s busy mouth. 

“I’m here.” Younghoon says as he parts, slipping his fingers out of Chanhee when he does. “I’m here.” He kisses the tip of his nose, lovingly, and later gives a chaste kiss to his lips. They’re kiss-bruised and almost glittery with exchanged spit. He thinks that he looks the loveliest like this. 

He thinks that maybe putting even _more_ vaseline on his dick will be a bit excessive, but he still does, the fear of hurting Chanhee weighing more inside his conscience than how comfortable it feels. He doesn’t care about how sticky and messy everything is, if that will mean that his lover won’t suffer.

And, you see, making Chanhee suffer is the least thing that he wants.

“Do it, please.” Chanhee reaches up once again to caress his cheek. He can’t help it: his hand is a perfect fit on his face, as if they were already made for each other. “I promise that you won’t hurt me.”

“Are you reading my mind?” Younghoon laughs, grabbing his dick again and lining it up with Chanhee’s entrance. All of his skin is sweating, out of nervousness. 

“Maybe, who knows?” He laughs as well, the sound morphing into a low whine once the other’s dick breaches inside of him. The burn from the stretch makes him feel hot all over, the warmth spreading from his groin to all his body. Before he knows it, _all_ of _it_ is in. 

He genuinely feels like he’s being ripped in a half.

“Does it feel okay?” Younghoon asks, eyes wide and curious. His chest is heaving, up and down, his breath uneven and almost loud. Chanhee doesn’t need to be too conscient to know that his state is more or less the same, lips parted in a silent gasp and eyes practically rolling back. This is way different than his fingers. This makes him feel way more filled, makes him feel way _more._

This makes him feel complete.

“Mhm.” He manages, nodding slowly and wrapping his legs around Younghoon’s hips to urge him to move. But the older won’t move a single muscle until Chanhee _says it._ “Come on, Younghoon.”

With a smile, and taking it slow like he has done since the beginning, he pulls out and back in again, softly, with care, paying mind to any kind of sign of discomfort from Chanhee. Seeing that the first thrust is positive, a feather-like gasp coming out of his rosy lips, he repeats the motion again, and again, setting a pace as pleasurable for Chanhee as it is for him.

The burn is long gone after the first thrusts, but Chanhee still feels warm, his skin tingling every time Younghoon presses his lips against the pale expanse. His lips travel from his chest to his lips, swallowing Chanhee’s moans when their mouths join in yet another kiss. They can never get tired of the way they taste, of the way their mouths feel when they touch. 

Chanhee feels like he got sent to Heaven and back to earth again. 

“You’re an angel.” Younghoon whispers to his ear, angling his hips to hit at his prostate. Chanhee moans at both the pleasure and his words, arching his back off the mattress. “I can even see where your wings were.”

Younghoon takes advantage of Chanhee’s new position to sneak a hand behind his back, caressing the scarred skin in the most loving way possible. It makes Chanhee want to cry again, want to scream out loud how much he loves the man above him. 

He’s fulfilling his mission.

He’s making him believe in love again. 

“This is what makes you beautiful, Chanhee.” He hardens his thrusts without making them faster, reaching even deeper inside him and knocking out his breath. Chanhee is so lost in the pleasure and in his words that he doesn’t notice the hot tears running down his face again until Younghoon kisses them, the liquid salty on his tongue. “You’re the most beautiful angel that this world has had the pleasure to witness. You’re perfect.”

“Y-Younghoon…” He sobs, rolling his head back when he starts to feel like he’s going to explode. He has never felt this good, in _all_ his life. It is overwhelming, but in the best way possible. _Overwhelmingly magnificent._ “I’m… I c-can’t, _Younghoon.”_

Those are the last faltering words he says before spilling his release onto his stomach, completely untouched, his orgasm accompanied by a long moan and a tight grip on the bed sheets. His thighs tremble where they wrap around Younghoon, and that, mixed with the clenching around him, is what makes Younghoon follow suit.

Younghoon’s first instinct is to pull out, but Chanhee doesn’t loosen the grip he has around his body, keeping him still inside him, just for a little longer. He’s too dazed out to speak, but luckily Younghoon understands, instead taking the sheets to clean his torso. Chanhee wants to be disgusted at it, he really does, but he can come up to it. He’s too tired to even complain about the lack of hygiene. Honestly, he doesn’t even care at this point. 

“You… You can pull out now, if you want to.” He speaks when he _finally,_ after five minutes, he manages to catch his breath. Younghoon is already softening inside him, and he doesn’t really know to what extent _that_ is comfortable. He himself doesn’t feel so pleasant when he pulls out, the liquid of his release spilling down his ass and onto the poor sheets. “Iugh.” 

Both of them laugh. It feels natural somehow, when Younghoon drops his body over the mattress next to him and Chanhee clings onto his side, sighing when the other wraps his arms around his waist and pulls him closer. He feels safe, like at home somehow, like absolutely nothing bad can happen to him.

Because Younghoon is his Guardian Angel. And he knows that he is capable of giving away his life if it’s because of him.

And Younghoon knows that Chanhee would do just the same.

That’s what love is about.


	6. But it's better if you do

The way Chanhee wakes up the next morning is nothing sort of conventional. He’s a little confused and lightheaded at first, when he feels the warmth around his cock without understanding where it comes from. It’s when he opens his eyes and yawns, the action mixed with a small whine at the pleasure between his legs, that he notices what’s happening.

Younghoon has his mouth around his cock, wet, warm and sloppy. When Chanhee places his hand on his hair, curling around the inky strands, it’s when he finally looks up at him, his eyes lazy but loving, still.

“Good m-morning.” He stutters when Younghoon goes back to bobbing his head up and down, this time looking straight into his eyes. It makes Chanhee’s body burn, from head to toes.

He knows he wants this forever. 

“Good morning baby.” Younghoon pulls back to speak, resting his head on Chanhee’s thigh and lazily stroking his dick. 

“What a sweet way to wake up, hm?” Chanhee caresses Younghoon’s hair softly as he speaks, lifting his body and resting his torso on an elbow to have a better view of his lover. He knows he has heart eyes painted all over his face, just seeing how Younghoon looks back at him, shining orbs and a relucient smile. 

“Do you like it?” The slow pace of his hand never stops, keeping him on his toes. Soft gasps inevitably escape from his mouth every time his long fingers brush the most sensitive skin, sending a shiver up and down his trembling body.

“I love it.” He moves his hand to caress Younghoon’s cheek with delicate fingers, earning a sigh from him. “I love you.”

The words come out of his mouth without going through any filter. The realization of what he just said startles him, but the man in front of him seems content with it, moving to resume the work of his mouth on Chanhee’s cock. He takes a tight grip of his hair and cries loudly, knowing already that he won’t last much longer. He doesn’t even know for how long Younghoon has been working him up already. 

He figures it mustn't be little when he finds himself spilling his release into his throat already, just after a few more bobs from Younghoon’s mouth.

“You could’ve chosen a more romantic moment for the first ‘I love you’, my darling.” Younghoon lifts his body from the squeaking mattress and joins their lips on a soft kiss, nothing to do with that his mouth was doing not even a minute ago. Chanhee can taste himself on Younghoon’s tongue, but instead of disgusting him it turns him on a little more. He brings his fingers back at Younghoon’s hair and pulls him down, turning their positions so that he sits astride his lap. 

“I’m not known to be a romantic.” He presses his lips over his again to shut his words up, deepening the kiss to the point of not being able to be considered innocent.

“I don’t think you want to go for it again.” Younghoon says when they finally part, their breaths heavy and filled with lust. “We should stop already, hm?”

Despite himself, Chanhee ends up climbing down from his thighs, laying down next to him and clinging onto his side, propping one of his legs around Younghoon’s hips. They stay like that for what seems like hours, the sound of the early morning birds that live in the tree by Younghoon’s garden being the only thing they hear, apart from their own breathing and the low thud of Younghoon’s heartbeat by his ear. 

Right when he feels like he’s going to fall asleep again, Younghoon speaks, breaking the comfortable silence they have settled.

“We can’t stay like this for much longer.” There’s a mournful tone in his voice, the hand he had brought to Chanhee’s hair now stilling, the light pressure feeling like tons over his head for him. Chanhee knows what he means. This is not the right thing for them. Chanhee has to go back to the brothel with his parent and his brother, and Younghoon has to be a good son and do what he’s supposed to do: get a good job, get a good woman, have kids and cheat on her afterwards.

Chanhee doesn’t have a place in what Younghoon should be. Is that why he understands. Younghoon is not only talking about this moment. He’s talking about the future, too. 

They live in an unfair world that has no place for love. Chanhee knows that much, and Younghoon must learn it soon. There’s no place for them as a whole. For them to be together. This is one of the things that scared Chanhee about seeing Younghoon again: having to face him, kiss him, fuck him, love him like he has never loved anyone, to then let go. It is cruel, of course it is. Chanhee is not going to be the only one getting hurt from this. Younghoon, his lover, will ache just as badly.

But it’s the right thing to do.

“I know.” It’s the only thing he says, not even daring to look at him when he climbs off the bed and gets dressed with the first thing he finds, the clothes conveniently being his own ones right on the first try. 

“Can we meet tonight?” Younghoon grabs his wrist, making him look at him again. His heart clenches when he sees the menace of tears pooling inside Chanhee’s beautiful eyes. “Why are you crying?”

“Why do you want to see me tonight? I have work to do.” He ignores Younghoon’s question on purpose, lowering his gaze.

“I will book you for the whole night.” His grip on his wrist gets tighter, a single tear falling down Chanhee’s cheek. He thought that love was real last night. But when the realization of how impossible that is hits, it’s hard for him to not break down. For both of them, really. It hurts just as much. “We need to talk.”

“About what.” Chanhee shakes his arm to get rid of Younghoon’s hold, successfully. He wants to scream, or to laugh like a maniac at the difference between how he woke up to the situation he’s in now. How he woke up saying ‘I love you’ and how he’s going now not believing in love again. Is he sane? Is this what happens when you love someone, that you suddenly lose your mind? That your train of thought goes back and forth until it kills you from insanity?

“About us. You can go now if you want to, I’m nobody to keep you here, and we don’t have to meet tonight if you’re not up to it.” When he looks up to meet Chanhee’s glossy eyes, his glance is sincere, his doe eyes staring into his soul through the holes he’s burning on his skull. Chanhee wants to scream again, frustrated, begging to the earth to swallow him whole and make everyone forget about his existence. “But I know how you’re feeling now. I feel the same. And I want us to find a way to fix it.”

“Is there a way to fix it, Younghoon?” Chanhee moves his hand to hold Younghoon’s again. He can’t lie: he loves the feeling of skin against skin, the warmth that Younghoon manages to spread through all the expanse of Chanhee’s body. There’s no way of denying the way he feels, the way he loves him, but he can’t do it. 

“I don’t know.” He’s sincere, it’s the least Chanhee should expect. “But there’s nothing to lose in trying.”

At least Younghoon is aware of how hard it will be. He’s aware of the stupidity of whichever plan he has for them because there’s no way in hell to make them work. 

But, as Younghoon said, there’s nothing to lose in trying. In the end, they have already lost everything, the moment they silently realized that their relationship doesn’t have an exit. 

When Chanhee leaves Younghoon’s house, he doesn’t do it before colliding their lips in a soft kiss. It’s like sealing the deal, making Younghoon know that, even if his hopes are low, he’s willing to try. It’s also a bitter way of tasting his lips once again. Because he can never know when it will be the last time.

  
  


*****

  
  


Chanhee has a lot to deal with the second he steps into the brothel. 

First, it’s Joonyoung, the one he almost crashes with right when he crosses the brothel’s main door. “Hyungseo is mad at you.” Is the way he greets him, and honestly, he deserves it. He left without saying a single word, of course his parent would worry about him and, in consequence, get mad. Because Hyungseo always gets mad when they’re worried, as a way to keep the caring feelings out of their head. Maybe Chanhee should’ve learned from that.

Then, after Joonyoung gives him an apologetic smile and parts, he meets his brother, who is stepping outside of his ‘work room’ accompanied by the guy he recognizes as Youngjae. The look Haknyeon gives him the moment their eyes meet is enough for Chanhee to know that he’s in trouble. 

It’s literally the least thing he needs now, to face his parent and lie to them in their face. Hyungseo is the person he trusts the most in this world. Yet now, he can’t tell them the truth.

“Hyungseo is so worried, Chanhee.” Haknyeon says when Youngjae shyly steps out of their sight, walking towards his brother to cup his face with his hands. “They’ve been trying to figure out where you were the whole night, even made Joonyoung come here to calm them down because of how much they were freaking out.”

“I’m sorry.” It’s the only thing Chanhee can say, his thoughts almost completely drained out. 

“Where the hell were you?” 

“I didn’t do anything illegal, if that’s what worries you.” He manages to get rid of Haknyeon’s hold, stepping back and leaning his body against the wall. He didn’t notice how sore his whole body was until now, all his muscles yelling at him to drown inside his bed, fall asleep and never wake up again. 

“You know Hyungseo doesn’t give a fuck about illegalities.” Haknyeon is on the verge of tears for some reason Chanhee doesn’t understand. It’s not that deep, he thinks: he just spent the night out, what’s the problem in that? He’s twenty years old, he’s supposed to do whatever he wants, he doesn’t depend on anybody.

Yet now, he somehow feels like he has failed his poor attempt at a family.

“I know.” He moves from the wall to walk towards Hyungseo’s room, knowing it’s not worth it trying to avoid them when he knows well enough that he’s going to have to face them in the end, even if he doesn’t want to. Haknyeon doesn’t get in his way, knowing well where he’s heading to. 

Chanhee thinks he should’ve been scared when he steps inside the room, fronting a very emaciated Hyungseo sitting on the edge of the bed with their face buried in their hands. When they lift their gaze to see who entered the room, expecting him to be Joonyoung or Haknyeon, and they see Chanhee instead, tears run back to their eyes, falling freely down their cheeks.

The first thing he gets when Hyungseo stands up is a hard slap on his face. He won’t say he doesn’t deserve it.

“What the fuck were you thinking.” They bring up their hands to cup Chanhee’s face, their grip rough contrasting Haknyeon’s softer one from before. “Where the fuck were you.”

“I’m sorry.” Chanhee can’t say more than that. He can’t say what he did, who he did it with. He can’t say where he was, why he disappeared for the night. That’s why, when the next slap arrives to his face, he takes it, lowering his head and holding back his tears, because he deserves any punishment his parent gives him. 

“Sorry is not enough, Chanhee.” They part from him to take a cigarette from a table along with a glass of wine, handing the last one to Chanhee, who drowns in the liquid he has missed. “You don’t know how fucking scared I was. I thought something bad happened to you.” New tears are coming out of their feline eyes, making them even glossier. “I can’t lose you now, Chanhee.”

Even if Chanhee thinks that he’s going to earn a new slap, he gets hugged by Hyungseo the next time they walk to him. Chanhee receives them with open arms, letting his parent cry on his shoulder as they please, caressing their back in slow circle motions to help calm them down.

“Why didn’t you tell me that you were going out?” They keep crying, staining Chanhee’s shirt with their tears, but he doesn’t really care, at all. “Not even your brother had any idea of where you were. I thought someone had taken you away from me, Chanhee. And you know that I can’t let that happen.”

“I know, Kevin.” He keeps the soft caresses at their back, keeping on going until he feels their sobs quiet down. “But you know I’m strong enough to not let anything happen to me.”

“Are you going to tell me where you went?” They part away from Chanhee’s hold, now softly cupping his face. It stings where he had been slapped, but he feels like he deserved it. When their eyes meet, there’s something in Chanhee’s eyes that clearly tells Hyungseo that their son is not going to say the truth. 

“You know I could never lie to you.” Chanhee brings up his own hand to Hyungseo’s cheek, wincing when he feels how warm the skin is under his fingertips, as if they had a fever. “So I’m just not going to say anything and hope that it’s okay for you.”

Chanhee knows well enough that Hyungseo will take it. They’re not the kind of person that asks questions when they’re not needed. They have known Chanhee for long enough to know that he’s someone that will never fail them, as well as his brother. So, as a response, they smile, playfully pinching his healthy cheek.

“Just, don’t scare me like this again. You don’t know the night you just gave me, little kid.”

“Hey, I’m not a kid, Kevin.” He grins, stepping away from them to go to their room for the night. “I’m busy now, someone booked me for the night.”

“Oh, yes? How do you know that, kid?” They cross their arms over their chest, giving him a playful smirk and a raise of their eyebrows. 

“Intuition.” 

  
  


*****

  
  


“Fancy seeing you here, love.” Chanhee greets Younghoon later that night, sitting on the bed as he lights the cigarette that lingers in between his lips. He may not be addicted, but it’s a way of distracting himself from the extremely handsome man that joins him in the bed, to distract him from the millions of things he would die to do to him right now. Instead he offers him a cig, which he takes, and contemplates the way he blows the smoke to the air through his nose, smirking when he notices Chanhee staring.

“I’m glad that you wanted to see me.” He gets a little closer, their thighs brushing, and teases a delicate finger on the waistband of Chanhee’s pants, his grin naughty. “I thought you were mad at me this morning.”

He leans even closer, his breath feather-like against Chanhee’s neck before he mouths at the skin, making him roll his head back and sigh, moving a hand back to support his torso and the other one to Younghoon’s hair, guiding him through the expanse of the column of his throat. His other hand ends up laced with the one Younghoon has placed on his lap, their fingers playing with each other’s taking care of not dropping the cigarettes to the floor.

“I could never be mad at you.” Chanhee uses the grip on his hair to lead him to his lips, the kiss wet and heated. Younghoon’s mouth tastes like tobacco when he lets his tongue in, but it doesn’t disgust him. On the contrary, it even turns him on, the feeling of the drug inside his mouth making him feel dizzy. He may not be addicted to smoking, but he damn is to the almost acid taste that lingers in Younghoon’s tongue. 

“Are we going to talk, or did you change your opinion and want now to fuck me against the wall?” Chanhee whispers against his lips when they part, a thread of saliva still connecting both their mouths. 

“Does it have to be the wall?” He grabs Chanhee’s shoulders and pushes him to lay flat on the mattress, resuming his previous path along his neck, unbuttoning his shirt as his lips travel lower and lower, nibbling softly one of his nipples on his way down and making Chanhee sigh in pleasure. “You know I prefer going softer with you.”

Chanhee doesn’t quite believe that this is happening, a maddening laugh escaping from his kiss-bruised lips. “If the whole talking thing was an excuse to have sex, just so you know it, you didn’t need it. I’m always going to be down for it if it’s with you.” He feels Younghoon smiling against his skin, opening the shirt finally so that his torso is completely exposed for his lips to explore. He lets them go from soft pecks on his chest, to blossoming marks down his hips and lazy licks around his navel. 

Every single touch manages to drive Chanhee crazy, his head completely clouded in pleasure. He’s again almost forgetting about how ephemeral this is. A single tear threatens to run down his cheek, but he holds it in, shaking his head to shake off any intrusive thought and instead focus on the way Younghoon takes off his pants, leaving him completely bare under his penetrating gaze.

“It wasn’t an excuse, we actually have to talk.” He takes Chanhee’s dick in his hand and starts jerking him off slowly, Chanhee’s first instinct being grabbing the sheets by both his sides, his knuckles turning almost white. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t have some fun while we talk, hm?”

“You literally fucked me yesterday, if you do it again you’re seriously going to break me in a half.” Chanhee tries to speak composedly, having to throw an arm over his eyes to not see the way Younghoon looks at his naked body as if he was the last meal in the world.

“Nobody said I was going to fuck you, right?” He withdraws his hand and gets off the bed to take off his clothes, leaving a whimpering Chanhee also now very confused. “Can I ride you tonight?”

Chanhee doesn’t get what he means at first. Then, when he sees the way Younghoon sits back on his lap, taking his cock in his hand again and pretending to line it up with his — already — stretched hole, he understands. He can only manage a choked out “yes” as he stares into Younghoon’s pleading eyes, groaning when he starts lowering his body, slowly letting Chanhee sink inside of him, both whining when he bottoms out.

“Shit…” Chanhee groans, lifting his torso to meet Younghoon’s body, letting his hands find their place at his ass and grabbing the flesh to make him moan. “How can you be so tight, baby?” Now he’s the one lazily mouthing at his skin, leaving a few marks here and there over his chest with his teeth, relishing the way he trembles every time Chanhee’s plump lips graze over his buzzing skin. 

“You are, too, so don’t- complain now.” His words break mid-sentence when he experimentally rolls his hips down, the feeling of the tip of Chanhee’s cock brushing against his sweet spot sending a shiver up and down his spine. When he looks down at Chanhee, a moan comes out of his mouth at how hot the sight is. The shirt is still hanging on his shoulders loosely, his lips parted in a silent gasp and his eyes glossy but darkened with want. He thinks he’s beautiful, so he voices it out, Chanhee smiling and rolling up his hips as a response, reaching a little deeper inside him.

“Didn’t you want to talk?” Chanhee places his hands on Younghoon’s waist and urges him to move, himself starting to be overwhelmed at the tightness and the warmth around him. “You can talk now.”

“You say that as if you weren’t as affected as I am, darling.” He finally starts moving his hips, leveraging himself on Chanhee’s shoulders, a poor attempt to make his movements less sloppy. “Let’s run away.”

Chanhee smiles at those words, thanking Younghoon’s closed eyes for not being able to witness the gesture. He raises one of his hands to brush his hair out of his sweaty forehead, later leaning back, supporting his weight on his arms and watching as Younghoon rides him, his thighs trembling around Chanhee’s hips.

“All of a sudden?”

“Y-yes.” Younghoon lowers his gaze and cries loudly, the warmth spreading all over his body almost staggering as he keeps bouncing on Chanhee’s lap. Chanhee himself can’t say that he’s not feeling good — on the contrary, he feels  _ awesome _ —, but he prefers not wasting time in whining when he can contemplate the way his lover breaks down before his eyes, only from his cock. It’s alluring, and somehow stunning as well. From the way his hair sticks to his forehead with sweat to the way his whole body shakes after a few minutes.

“Where are you taking me?” His hands wander back to Younghoon’s ass, squeezing the cheeks softly just for the sake of making him moan louder, as if he wasn’t already an absolute mess. He’s now moving his hips in slow circular motions, giving a little time to rest to his thighs. Chanhee follows his rhythm with a few thrusts up, ending up with a harder one that makes Younghoon whine loudly. “Where are we going to go?”

“Chanhee fuck me now, talk later.” He’s the one that turns their positions, laying on the bed and wrapping his legs around Chanhee’s hips, urging him to move.  _ “Please.” _

“I didn’t take you for the kind of person that begs for cock.” Chanhee finds fun in his boldness, building a pace he feels comfortable with easily, almost making Younghoon scream from the new angling of his hips. All of his skin is flushed red, in embarrassment, pleasure and lust. Chanhee is reaching his high as much as Younghoon is, his hips stuttering every few thrusts, for both the inexperience and the imminent arrival of his orgasm. “You’re so fucking pretty.”

He says it because he means it. He doesn’t think he has ever seen a man as beautiful as him, as alluring and breathtaking. As there aren’t enough words to describe his beauty, Chanhee decides to show him, covering his blushing skin in small kisses and nibbles, each one of them followed by an “I love you”. Younghoon whines when he hears the words, trying to reply but not being able to speak, the only sounds coming from his mouth being soft moans and gasps. Chanhee  _ loves it. _

“Can I t-take you… To the best place in the whole world, my love?” He prettily arches his back, grabbing the sheets tightly and keeping eye contact with him, staring into his dark eyes when he moans again, biting his lip to try to muffle the sound. 

“I already feel like I’m in the best place.” Chanhee makes his thrusts faster, way more desperate, bringing one of his hands to Younghoon’s dick to make him come as well. “Please come with me, come with me.”

It doesn’t take much longer to reach their orgasm, together, a loud cry and a moan of their names when they find their release, collapsing on the mattress right after.

“You never last long.” Chanhee speaks with feigned annoyance as he takes the forgotten cigarettes and lights them again, placing Younghoon’s cig in between his moist lips in a way that is more intimate than what it should be.

“As if you were any better yourself.” He wraps his arms around Chanhee’s waist and brings him closer, burying his nose on his hair and getting drunk on his sweet smell. “I meant what I said before, you know?”

Chanhee only hums as a response, drawing small circles on Younghoon’s lower back with his fingertips. If he zones out enough, his mind can almost mute the moans coming from the adjoining room and only focus on the way Younghoon’s heart beats against his ribcage, the soft thud of the blood reverberating on his ears like a sweet melody.

“Where do you wanna go?” Chanhee is the one to break the silence, startling Younghoon a little.

“You really want to run away with me?” Younghoon speaks against his hair, not wanting to move even an inch. Chanhee pulls himself a little closer if possible, tangling their legs and finding his hands to intertwine their fingers. He doesn’t have to think much of the answer.

“Yes.” He simply replies, not thinking about the implications of that single world. 

Running away. How many times has he thought about running away and leaving everything he knows behind. Leaving London, its ugly and dangerous streets and its awful aristocracy. Leaving the brothel, the burden of having to pretend to be someone he isn’t to please rich, old men that have never felt the warmth of a woman. 

Leaving Haknyeon, the one that has always been his family, that has always been by his side even when they starved and begged for food on the streets. Leaving Hyungseo, the only person in the world that has ever treated him as a real person and not as a trashcan. The only person that has given him a real home, a roof to live under. The only one that has loved him, cared for him, made sure that he was safe and protected all the time.

Saying yes to Younghoon’s proposal is bittersweet. It’s true that he wants to run away. To be with Younghoon forever, until death separates them. He wants to do the impossible with him, to forget about the big city and have a peaceful life with the one he loves. It doesn’t matter if the world has no place for love, when they can always create their own little world, together. 

However, the price is high. And Chanhee is not sure if he will be able to pay it. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> You can find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/moonsbbin) or on [cc](https://curiouscat.qa/moonsbbin).


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